Dr Elizabeth Smalls
by a striking mind
Summary: Dr. Elizabeth Smalls is a professor at The College of William and Mary. She is going on her first consulting job for the BAU after the insistence of her friend JJ. But she encounters someone she thought she'd never see again, Dr. Reid.
1. The New Girl

**Chapter One – The New Girl**

I took a deep breath. They weren't going to kill me. JJ was so sure of that but then again she was sure of everything. She was sure I wasn't too young to be a consultant for the FBI. She was sure they would all like me. She was sure I wouldn't make a fool of myself. She had been sure since I had known her in college, at Penn State. We had met my first year there. She shared a dorm with me and although she was much older then I, we had become friends.

"Beth," she would say to me, "in college know one cares about age. They care about what you can do."

I felt somewhat comforted about her confidence. But yet again that was JJ, always confident about everything. I was about to be a consultant for the Behavioral Analyst Unit at Quantico with their best team; Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, the unbelievable Jason Gideon, Derek Morgan the sarcastic man, Penelope Garcia a computer genius, the newbie Emily Prentiss, and of course the amazing Dr. Spencer Reid. But now I was going to be the new one on the force and I was scared silly.

Even though I was only twenty-three I already had my PhD in English. But I was still stuck in college at William and Mary (I had transferred there after I obtained my PhD). And I had to still complete my other education.. Because even though I was amazing at English I could barely pass my Science courses.

JJ thought it would look good on my resume if I helped the FBI with my expertise. How I was going to help them with this next case I didn't know. I mean they had Dr. Reid, the one who knew everything humanly possible!

I was wearing a white trumpet skirt with a baby blue top, jean jacket, and white peep-toe shoes. My blonde hair was pulled back into a half ponytail, which was held in place with a blue bow. I had a khaki saddlebag with all my things I thought were necessary. JJ was wearing her typical black pants and button down shirt. Her hair was down and in her face. She looked uncomfortable though. If she could get away with it she would have worn sneakers and sweatpants.

"Jen," I said taking my bag and fixing it to my shoulder, "do you really think this is necessary? Do I really need to do this?" I was whining but I didn't care.

I followed her down the lobby to one of the back doors of the BAU building. She looked down at me and smiled.

"Yes, and it'll be fun! You'll really like everyone once you meet them."

"Jenny, please! It's still not too late. Take me back to my apartment and…"

"Too, late. They've already seen you," she said gesturing towards the glass doors. Of course she had made them see me. Now I had no choice.

"If I burst into tears the first time I mess up I blame you," I muttered under my breath and she laughed as she opened the door for me.

They were all there, all six of them. Penelope and Morgan were laughing loudly; she was sitting on a chair and he on the desk in front of her. Their knees were almost touching. Hotchner was standing next to Gideon both of them watching me as I walked in. Emily sat on the desk next to Dr. Reid who was leaning awkwardly on the counter. He was flipping through a book, reading it.

He looked up and he still looked the same from the last time I saw him. Same hair cut, same glasses, same clothes, same awkwardness. He was still the Spencer I knew from childhood. He was still that twelve-year-old who I had known for only a brief amount of time. I felt myself blush but JJ didn't seem to notice as she did introductions.

"Everyone," she said showcasing me like Vanna White, "this is Dr. Elizabeth Smalls. She's going to be helping us on our next case." Everyone stood up to greet me. "This is Special Agent Aaron Hotchner," she said nodding to him.

He reached out, shook my hand and said, "Pleasure to meet you Dr. Smalls." He didn't seem too pleased. His eyes were hard and he looked angry with me.

"You too Agent Hotchner," I smiled at him.

Emily came over and gave a my a warm shake, "I'm Special Agent Emily Prentiss. It is nice to finally meet you Dr. Smalls."

Before I could say anything Morgan immediately overtook her. His hand was in mine and he was shaking it with enthusiasm. "I'm Special Agent Derek Morgan, but just call me Morgan. Wow!" he exclaimed taking a step back, "you're last name really does fit you. Did you plan that?"

I smiled and said, "Yes." I am only 5ft 4in so everyone here towered over me. JJ is the next smallest and she is three inches taller than myself.

"Hi," I heard a voice ring out from behind Morgan. "I'm Penelope Garcia, the computer geek and resident oracle of the BAU." She stepped out from behind Morgan and shook my hand. "You don't see much of me but you hear a lot from me."

"Well I am glad I saw you once so I can remember who you are," I said smiling.

"I do have a habit of slipping from people's minds," her voice trailed off and she glared at Morgan. He looked sheepishly at her.

"Special Agent Jason Gideon," JJ said taking back control of the introductions.

Gideon shook my hand and said, "Hello Dr. Smalls. You're paper comparing the Bronte sister's work is quite extraordinary."

"Thank you," I said happily. This was a subject I knew a lot about. For my thesis paper I had written about the Bronte sister's of European literature. "It is one of my favorite pieces that I wrote. I'm quite proud of it. I've always been interested in the group dynamic of author's who live in close proximity to one another. How their personal relationships influence the characters and lives that they write about."

He seemed quite pleased with my answer. "It is how writers interpret the world around them that make them different. You have done well yourself in that regard."

I flushed and said, "I see you've been reading some of my novellas. Quite silly aren't they?"

I had published my first book at age sixteen. I had written about fifteen so far. They were all teenage love stories. They were all my fantasies played out on paper.

"No, no not really. You managed to tackle an important issue every novel you wrote about; from race, to poverty, to religion, to death, to war. You covered everything that we feel prejudiced about. Quite extraordinary really."

"Oh, well thank you very much," said a little flabbergasted. Anyone with any common sense would not read those novels but he had. I had a feeling it was his way of getting inside my head. It was Gideon's way of profiling me.

"And this is Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid," JJ said as soon as our conversation ended.

He put down the book he had been reading and I caught the title. _Last Impression: The Story of Abigail Carroll Grant_ by Elizabeth Smalls. I could feel the color drain from my cheeks. It was my first novel the one I had written at age sixteen. It was about a girl who married a serial killer and began piecing together the evidence over two years of marriage. That book was the one I was the least proud of and Spencer was reading it.

Spencer smiled and did his little wave. I knew he wouldn't take my hand so I held mine back.

"Nice to meet you Dr. Reid," I said smiling back.

He didn't say anything just smiled. I wasn't expecting him to and I was glad. He didn't mention the book so I kept silent. And he didn't mention our earlier acquaintance, which gave me some relief. I didn't want to deal with that right now.

Addressing everyone I said, "Please, call me Beth everyone does. If you call me Dr. Smalls I'll think you're talking to some old man." I was trying to sound authoritative and it worked. I had never heard my 'proper' name used so many times before in my life. It was making me feel nauseated.

"Now, will someone please tell me what case we are working on and why you had to call in me," I said holding onto my saddlebag tightly. "Jen wouldn't tell me anything."

Hotchner said, "I think its better we show you." We all moved in one big group following Hotchner down the hallway to a room on the right. "You still sure you want to do this?" he asked at we all paused at the door. He looked like he wanted me to say no.

I swallowed and looked at them all. How could they be counting on me? They were the best of the best. All of them were brilliant and smart. What case was so important that they needed me? I was unsure and insecure and young. It was driving me crazy! If I had been nervous before it was nothing compared to this.

I gathered myself together, looked directly at Hotchner and said, "Yes."


	2. The Case

**Chapter Two - The Case**

As Hotchner opened the door I could feel everyone's eyes on me. He flicked on the light and I fought a gasp. The room would have been ordinary (round table with chairs, carpet, white board, projector screen) except that it was covered with pictures and red lines/circles everywhere.

The pictures were gruesome. Four women all with their hair pulled back in a bun, wearing sundresses that went down to the floor and long sleeves, no makeup, and no shoes. They were laying on the floor like they were in a coffin. Their arms folded across their chests and they were perfectly straight. It was obvious that they had all been redressed this way.

But there was blood everywhere. Their throats were slashed and wrists cut but the blood had not pooled like it should have. Beside each of them was a bucket of their blood, it had been collected by the killer. The blood had been thrown around the room and had pooled unnaturally in several places.

Their names were written at the top of the whiteboard: Laura Miller, Allison Hugo, Victoria Loveless, and Miriam Trent. Across the whiteboard where written four phrases with numbers attached to them. They were as follows:

'Do not permit women to teach or have authority over a man - 212'

'Women watch over the affairs of the household and nothing else - 3127'

'Women shall not wear men's clothing - 225'

'Women shall not change their natural use for men that is against nature - 126'

I was immediately drawn to them. I placed my saddlebag on the table and put my reading glasses on. They were black rimmed but they had a modern shape. Taking out a notebook and pen I quickly scribbled them down.

"All the women were killed within a ten block distance of each other at their homes," Hotchner said pointing out four dots on a map. It was hung on the wall. "They also have nothing in common. They are of different races, ages, backgrounds. The only common thread is that they were all killed by the same person."

I paused and looked at the pictures of the women again. He was right. Laura Miller was African American and in her late 30's. Allison Hugo was white and in her late 60's. Victoria Loveless was Hispanic and in her 40's. Miriam Trent was also white but in her teens. None of them had the same hair color, eye color, age, height, and background. They were just ordinary women.

I brought my thoughts back to the phrases and numbers. "What are these quotes from?" I asked looking back from the map to the board. "A book, religious text, movie…"

Gideon cut me off and said, "We can't tell what they are from."

I looked back sharply at him, surprised. He and Dr. Reid, with their brilliant minds, couldn't identify them what gave them any inclination I would.

I began with the obvious question. "What gives you the impression that their quotes? How do you know the suspect didn't just make them up?" I asked going back to copying them down.

Spencer came over to where the quotes were on the board and shook his head. "The rhythm of the lines. They're almost like a poem. Each feels like that they continue into the next sentence. The unsub is organized and educated. He has probably at least been educated through High School. Its seems like he twisted them from some other text to say what he wanted it too. But there is an original source we just have to find it."

I nodded and frowned at my paper thinking hard. That made sense. Which is why Spencer couldn't recall it. "So that means that you probably have read it but it has been twisted so that you can't recall it. Because if you had read it you would have remembered it perfectly." I was more pondering this to myself about him. A fact that I was suddenly recalling.

He wasn't meant to hear that but he said, "Precisely."

I fought back the urge to flush. I took back control of the conversation. "But," I said taking off my glasses and tapping my pen against the board, "what do these phrases have to do with the crime? How are they connected?"

JJ walked in and hit a few buttons on the computer. "They were all found at the scene," as she said this four pictures popped up on the projector screen. They were the phrases and the numbers written in a dark red on a wall behind the women. "And they were written in the victim's blood."

The gag reflex, I had been fighting since I had walked into the room, was nearly choking me. But I remained professional. Dr. Reid meanwhile had jumped in to explain.

"Which means that these phrases are very important to him. He spent time collecting the victims blood." The container of it popped up on the screen. "But we have no idea where they came from. We don't know who he really is."

I wanted to scream at them and jump up and down. How could they think I knew any more then they did? It was Dr. Spencer Reid for goodness sakes! The complete genius that had three PhDs. Who had read more books than I ever will in my lifetime. What did Gideon think I knew that he didn't? This was ridiculous!

"Well…" I said my voice trailing off. They looked at me waiting for me to take control.

"This is what I need. Penelope," I exclaimed. She jumped up a little. I ripped off the paper that I had just written the phrases and numbers down on. "I need a computer geek. Can you take these and type them into every search engine you know. See if you find any good hits and print them out to me. Jen and Morgan, can you get me all the case files on these women? I need to know the ins and outs of their lives." Jen got up from the computer and went out of the room with Morgan trailing behind her. "Agent Gideon if you could bring out all your resource material for me to look at." He followed behind JJ. "Agent Hotchner you are free to do what you want." Hotchner frowned like he didn't need my permission to do anything. But he walked out of the room anyway.

I took a step back from the white board. Each one was derogatory towards women. The question was why? What caused him to hate women? It was clear that each of them had been redressed, which puzzled me. Most killers when they redressed their victims was to make them sexier, more appealing. They put makeup on them or in more revealing clothing. I had never heard of a killer trying to make ordinary women less desirable to men. As I had been pondering this I began chewing on the temple tip of my glasses. I was so deep in my reverie that I had forgotten about one other person.

"What are you thinking about, Dr. Smalls?" Spencer asked coming to stand next to me.

I jumped a little but quickly recovered. "It's Beth," I said automatically correcting him, "and I'm wondering why he redressed them in this particular way. Well I mean I know why he did it to make them less appealing. But I mean what his ulterior motive was. What caused him to become like this? I mean…" He was staring at me intently like he was interested in what I had to say. How could he really find this interesting? I was babbling because I was nervous. How could he make me nervous?

It was Spencer! It was the boy who I had known from Las Vegas. He obviously didn't remember me, which was fine. But he hadn't changed that much at all even his reputation. He didn't know it but his reputation made him so intimidating. And he probably wouldn't understand why I was so scared. He was good at analyzing people who were not personal to him. But the second you made it became personal he had no idea what you were thinking. It was because he had never felt intimidation. He was always sure that he was right and that he could remember everything. He didn't think the same way we did-in fact no one thought the way he did.

Again I got the urge to jump up and down and scream. Why did they think I could help? I was saved from doing this by the entrance of JJ and Morgan with the many boxes of evidence and files on the case. And Gideon entered right behind them with eight thick books of resource ranging from the Roman Era to the Bible. The three of them slammed the books and boxes on the table. I gave a little jump

"Thanks," I called to them as they left the room. I handed Spencer the top book and said, "Dr. Reid, can you please read through these. Mark possible phrase matches with pink sticky notes, number matches with blue, and any other that might be of some importance with yellow." I reached into my bag and pulled out the sticky notes I was talking about and placed them on the table in front of him. "I would do it myself," I continued, "but you're a faster reader than me and," I said picking up a box, "I have to get to know these women inside and out."

We sat in silence for sometime. I was reading through files while taking notes and he was quickly flipping through the resource material. Every so often I saw him pick up a sticky note and place it on the page. I put my iPod on and started listening to Mozart's Concerto NO. 1 in G Major. How long we sat there I don't really know. I could see all the lights being turned off one after the other. It got really quiet and I knew we where there after hours. I knew everyone had left besides us. No one had stopped by to ask how we were doing. No one came by with any new information. It was just us, together.

After awhile the words began to blur together and just as I was nodding off Spencer asked, "Why did she still love him?"

It was a tone that he hadn't used before this. It wasn't the lecture voice or the know-it-all one. It wasn't to test me to see if I knew the answer. It was a genuine question. I jolted up and looked at him. He had stopped his wild pace through _The Free Masons Resource Guide_ and was looking very intently at me.

I had no idea what he was talking about. So, I took my glasses off, looked at him and said, "What?"

He placed the book down on the table and took his glasses off as well. But he had lost that childlike quality and had gotten back his lecture tone. "In your novel Last Impression, Abby still loved Jackson even when she found out that he had killed all those people. Why?"

I was a little taken a back. Why was he so interested in my first (and worst in my opinion) novel? But I answered him anyway. I took a deep breath and said, "Abby fell in love with both sides of Jackson. The good and the bad. She didn't care because in the end he was still the same person she married. Love changes people, Dr. Reid. You of all people should understand that. You see how people change from it or from the lack of it."

"But he was a psychopath not a sociopath," he exclaimed sounding exasperated. "Psychopath's can't feel remorse. There have been several papers, done by very well respected scientists, saying that they born that way. There is some chemical imbalance that causes they to kill. Sociopaths kill because of the environment that they are brought up in. They know what they are doing is wrong but can't stop. They have one personality unlike psychopath's who have two."

"So?" I asked placing my glasses back on and going back to taking notes.

"In the book, on page 396-paragraph three-line six, you wrote:" He closed his eyes. I could see them move rapidly back and forth as he recalled what I wrote.

'He looked at me sadness growing in his eyes. He never looked lovelier to me than then when he was dying- when I was about to lose him. The blood pooled around his middle and he began to cough. He rasped out, "I did kill them Abby and I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I love you, Abby. I love you so much." I reached out to him but he closed his eyes and died where he had shot himself.'

He wouldn't have said that. He shouldn't have said that. It is factually wrong for him to have said that."

"In my personal opinion," I said looking back up at him, "I think he really loved Abby. That's why he took his life in the end because he couldn't deal with the reality of hurting her. Love changed him. Love always changes everyone for better or for worse." He gave me an odd look. I quickly retracted my statement. "But it's just a story. Yah know, I exaggerated everything. I'm sure that it would never really happen like that in really life." I smiled at him and he smiled back. But he didn't look too convinced. He went back to reading but the silence became uncomfortable. I couldn't concentrate so finally I asked, "Why do you care?"

"I was just thinking how many less killers we would have if someone loved them like Abby loved Jackson." He returned to flipping back through _The Free Masons Resource Guide._

"But you just said that it would be impossible for someone like Jackson to feel remorse. So now you're saying that if someone like Jackson felt love they wouldn't kill." I was trying to hide the surprise from my voice.

"Yes." He paused. "Well, the Sociopaths anyway."

I smiled at him and fought the laugh that was trying to escape my throat. He was so confusing. He just said that it would be impossible for Jackson to love Abby and feel remorse and now…He was still the same confusing Spencer.

I placed my headphones back on my head and picked Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake from my play list. The hypnotic sound of the ballet and my tired body finally gave out. I feel asleep in the middle of reading the file on Victoria Loveless. What happened after that I don't know. But I do know that I had a horrible dream.

I was on the floor crying and the whole room that I was in was hazy. Where I was I don't know. What I was doing there I don't know. All I do know is that I was screaming Spencer's name over and over. He appeared out of the haze with a gun. He was studying it-flipping it over and over in his hands. I was imploring him now. I was telling him to put it down and to listen to me.

He quietly said, "You were right, Beth. Love really does change a person. I can't do this anymore. I wish I wasn't this way. I wish I hadn't killed them but they were too perfect. They were too much like you." I was sobbing now barely able to breathe. "I loved you too much, Beth." He held the gun to his head. "Goodbye." I heard the sound of a gun going off and everything went black.


	3. The Epiphany

**Chapter Three – The Epiphany**

I jolted awake. At first I was disoriented. Where was I? Why wasn't I at my apartment? Then it all came flooding back to me. The case, Spencer, the dream-I could feel my mouth go dry. I had fallen asleep on top of a case file. My glasses were askew on my face and I could feel that my hair was out of place. As I lifted myself up from my position of lying on top of the desk, Morgan placed a hot cup of tea in front of me and produced two bagels.

Placing the bagels down next to the cup he said, "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"What?" I asked still a little dazed. I looked at him comprehension slowly dawning. "No…just a bad dream." I rubbed my eyes and took the tea.

"Yeah," he said sitting down next to me, "this job does that to you."

"No," I said taking a sip, "it wasn't about the case it was…" I stared into my teacup. "Hey, how did you know I don't drink coffee?" I hadn't mentioned it before that I only drank tea. I did notice however that he was drinking coffee.

"JJ told me. She said it was one of your many…" he paused searching for a word. "…'Quirks'.

"Yeah, Jenny did always call me that. Quirky, I mean."

"And how did you ever get JJ to let her call you Jen?" he asked taking a long draw from his cup.

"Honestly, I have no idea. I just called her that one day and never stopped. She never said it bothered her. Why? Did she break your nose when you called her Jen?"

He snorted into his cup and said, "Yeah, something like that."

"That's Jen. She'd rather break somebody's nose then be nice to them."

I giggled at JJ's expense and Morgan joined in. He then noticed the stacks of files I yet had to go through. "Well," he said standing up and stretching, "enjoy the breakfast and have fun with those case files." He patted my shoulder and walked out of the room.

"Oh, believe me," I called to him, "I will."

I finished drinking my tea and began on my bagel. I imagined I must look like a deranged person myself. I took my compact from my saddlebag and checked. I had rubbed my makeup off and my hair was the messiest I had ever seen it. I sighed and redid my hair the best I could. My thoughts returned to last night.

Spencer, I assumed, had stayed with me all night. But he should have been done those books by the latest dinnertime. Why had he stayed so late? My heart hurt in my chest just thinking about all the possibilities. I told myself that I was making it all up. That he had actually taken twelve to fourteen hours to read those eight resource guides. But I still smiled. I knew that he had actually stayed longer then he should have.

Still smiling, I resumed taking notes on Victoria Loveless. It was my last case file and I was determined to finish it before someone else came in to check in on my progress. Just as I was finishing up taking notes Garcia barged in the room. She looked like she hadn't gotten much sleep either. There were some circles under her eyes and her clothes were rumpled. But she triumphantly held a stack of papers above her head.

"The oracle has delivered," she exclaimed dropping the stack of papers in front of me.

"Thanks," I said flipping through them. She started to walk out of the room but I stopped her. "Oh and by the way, who are you, again?" I smiled.

"I keep telling you I just slip from people's minds," she said putting on a fake exasperated tone.

I flipped through the papers skipping just number and phrase matches. I went to the ones that had been searched for both. Most of it was junk and most of it made no sense. Then I came across one. It reads as follows:

'Do not permit women to teach or have authority over a man' - pg 212 in Quinton Lee "Bear" Finch's highly controversial novel _Women and Their Place in World_.

My breathing was coming in short bursts now. This was it! It was the source that was feeding our killer's fire. I hastily flipped through the papers.

'Women watch over the affairs of the household and nothing else' – pg 3127 in Quinton Lee "Bear" Finch's…

'Women shall not change their natural use for men that is against nature' – pg 126 in Quinton Lee…

'Women shall not wear men's clothing' – pg 225 in Quinton…

It was all there! Everything! It all made sense now. Everything I had questions about was being answered. I knew I could find all the answers in that book. I grabbed my bag and ran out of the room. Unfortunately I was impeded because I collided with Spencer.

"Dr. Smalls, is everything ok?" he asked after he recovered from the initial blow.

I tried catching my breath but it was no good. "It's Beth, and Dr. Reid, do you have a bookstore around here? We need to go to a book store."

"So that means you figured it out?" he asked incredulously. He looked from my bag back to me.

"Yes, I did." JJ had heard all the commotion and had come jogging down the hallway. She started asking me a question but I cut her off. "Jen, get Penelope to pull everything she can on Quinton Lee "Bear" Finch." I said. She nodded and went back out the way she came. I began to practically run down the hallway.

"Is he the killer?" Spencer called from behind me.

I skidded to a halt. "No, but he might be able to shed light on who he is." Spencer looked at me puzzled. He was genuinely confused about this. "I'll explain on the way. Is there a bookstore in walking distance from here?" I asked again.

"Yeah, I'll take you."

In a few moments we were out of the BAU and walking a few blocks down to a Barnes and Noble. It was a warm June day and I was enjoying the walk with Spencer. I explained everything that I had found out. He became greatly concerned and almost began to jog.

"I'm actually glad that you didn't read that book, Dr. Reid," I said picking up my pace to match his. "I wouldn't know what to think of you. It's not the kind of book anyone should be reading."

"Yes, for once I'm also glad I didn't read this book." He sighed and said, "But now I guess I have to." He was right. In order to understand the killer we were going to have to read the book that he got his ideas from.

"I'll read it with you," I said looking up at him. He didn't look comforted by the idea." And Gideon will too. I guess that means we need two copies." I searched through my bag for my money.

Spencer stopped suddenly. We had reached the bookstore. It was enormous – two stories and half a city block. "Put your money away," he said and he took a few bills from his pocket. "The Bureau can pay for them." I complied and we walked through the doors.

We went directly to the information desk in the center of the building below the escalators. Unfortunately there was a long line. We were the fifth and it wasn't moving quickly. I was impatiently tapping my foot.

"Can't you just flash your badge and get them to move," I asked. I was tired and angry and this was just adding my irritation.

I could tell he was just as angry as myself. "You wait here," he whispered in my ear, "I'll go see if I can find it."

I nodded. I was clearly exasperated with this lack of customer service. The girl at the counter looked barely fifteen with pink striped black hair and too many piercings to count. She appeared to have no idea what she was doing. He left and the line slowly progressed. Oh, this was just ridiculous! I could probably type faster then her and find the book in under a minute. Finally I was there.

Before she could get a world out I said, "It's a non-fiction book by Quinton Lee Finch called _Women and Their Place in the World_." I said it all in one breath. She began slowly typing in the words. "Oh, hurry up. I really need that book." She looked up and glared at me. I fought back the childish urge to stick out my tongue.

Spencer suddenly appeared out of nowhere and held up a bag. "I found it," he was out of breath like he had just run a marathon. "There was only one copy but I got it."

"Never mind," I said following Spencer from the counter. If looks could kill I was dead before I left the store.

We walked out of the Barnes and Nobles and there sat Gideon in his SUV. We climbed in and he said, "Fill me in." We complied and he seemed quite impressed with what I had gathered.

"JJ said you were determined but I wasn't expecting this," he said as we pulled into the parking lot. I quietly smiled to myself. "Beth, you are going to have to debrief everyone when we get back." I nodded but my butterflies that had been there yesterday came back.

Once again we were back in the room. The room that still plagues my dreams. The room with the pictures and the red lines and those phrases, it is a nightmare. I stood in the middle of it debriefing them all. Telling them what I had figured out in just twelve hours. I told them what I knew and they all listened.

"And here's another thing I noticed. Each quote pertains to the profession or lifestyle of the women," I said. I wrote down the names and connected the phrases to each woman that they pertained to. "The first quote was found above Laura Miller. It says that women should not have authority over men and she was head of her own law firm. Miriam Trent had the quote 'natural use for men'. She was a lesbian. Emily even talked to her girlfriend. That's changing her natural use for men. Allison Hugo was a stay at home mom but she wore men's clothing. Thus the third quote was meant for her. And Victoria Loveless was a priest. So the third quote about 'watching over the affairs of the household' was directed to her." I was breathless. I was just so excited about this new epiphany. "He's specifically targeting them. These aren't random killings. He's probably stalking then attacking."

They all looked at me. Emily was tapping her pen on the table. JJ was leaning against the doorframe a slight smile on her face. I couldn't tell whether or not Hotchner was pleased or unhappy with the results. Morgan was looking serious and upset. I think the case was finally starting to get to him. Garcia was still finding things for me on Finch so she wasn't here. Gideon was looking very intently at me. Thinking about the case I suppose. And Spencer was standing next to me. He was chewing his fingernail as he finished flipping through the book.

We were silent for a moment as what I just said sunk in. Then Spencer said suddenly, "These are all Bible verses."

"What?" I asked turning to face him.

He was running his fingers along the phrases on the board. "Finch took these from the Bible. They're so distorted that I didn't recognize them. I Timothy, Proverbs, Deuteronomy and Romans – these quotes are from those books. But he quotes them from the Bible like they're in the original form."

I heard Emily murmur, "Oh my God."

I looked at them all not comprehending. It must have been evident because Hotchner said, "He plans his attacks and leaves women degraded. He thinks he is doing the world justice, a favor even."

Gideon quietly said, "He has no remorse. He's unstoppable until we stop him. This is only going to get worse."

We stared at each other a few long moments before I said, "I want to meet him." They all looked up at me. "As soon as Penelope figures out where he lives I want to go talk to Finch. I think that it's important that we do." They all looked back and forth at each other.

Hotchner said, "She's right. We need to meet him. He might be able to shed some light on our killer."

Gideon grimly nodded. Emily's tapping stopped and she began turning her pen over and over in her hands. JJ looked me squarely in the eye and smiled. She knew Hotchner was taking a liking to me. Morgan didn't look anywhere in my direction. This case was really getting to him. The only dramatic change I noticed was that Spencer's face was suddenly very white. And he was chewing his fingernail ferociously now.

I didn't know what I was getting myself into but my confidence, that I had just had, was gone. Now I was scared and I didn't know what to expect.


	4. The Plane Ride

**Chapter Four – The Plane Ride**

That night, at eight, we left behind Washington DC and headed towards Rainsville, Alabama. Finch lived about an hour and a half from there but it was the closest town to his home. But first we had to land in the closest airport, Scottsboro Airport. Spencer had informed me that it was precisely 468.1 nautical miles from here to there. Then it was a 35-minute drive to the Rainsville police department from Scottsboro. It was going to take a total of four and a half hours to Rainsville. I was not looking forward to it.

JJ and Penelope were staying behind. I had tried to convince JJ to come but to no avail.

"Please, come Jen." I tossed some makeup into a bag. "I don't know anyone that well. I'm going to be all by myself." We were at my apartment that was near William and Mary. JJ had driven me down from Quantico because she thought it would be quicker than taking the train.

"Beth, everyone likes you and you'll only be there for a day or two. You seem to be getting along fine with everyone. There is really no reason for me to come."

"But…"

"No buts. Stop being so whinny. Anyway, you need me to stay behind and watch the cats." It was true. Someone needed to look after my two cats, Mina and Jane.

"Fine," I mumbled and finished packing.

So now I was on the Bureau's plane heading into the unknown. Boarding the plane, I took my seat at the end of a couch. Spencer sat on the other side of the couch reading the Bible. Our saddlebags were in between us. Gideon and Emily were sharing a table and were deeply involved in a chessboard. Hotchner was on the phone with his wife, Haley, on a chair away from the rest of us. It sounded like he was explaining why he had to be away for a few days. Morgan was listening to music in a chair near Spencer.

As the plane took off I felt my stomach churn. I hadn't told anyone but I was, and still am, uneasy about flying. I don't like it. If humans had been made to fly we would have been given wings. I closed my eyes and felt my ears pop. This was going to be a long four-hour plane ride. Gideon met my eye and smiled. If he was trying to reassure me it hadn't worked.

Spencer handed me Finch's book to read. I had offered it to Gideon but he said that he and Emily were in the middle of a chess match. I opened its pages and willed myself to focus on the book and not the plane. I began to slowly progress through its pages taking notes every so often.

It was a chilling read. I thought that America was above such gross injustices and prejudices. But this book was a testament that it was alive and well. And now that I thought about it women were less likely to get corporate jobs, talk in a public setting, run for a public office. No, America had never ever really gotten rid of their prejudice against women. It was still there just beneath the surface.

I came to the first quote. Sitting there reading it I realized something. I looked up at Spencer. He should have seen this that these quotes were from the Bible. He had a resource book on it; he had read the Bible before. Why did he let me figure it out? Why did he not say something earlier? I moved our bags to the floor and sat closer to him.

"Dr. Reid?" I whispered taking off my glasses. I didn't want Gideon or Emily to hear. He looked up from his book. I put my finger on the first quote. "Why didn't you realize this was from the Bible last night? You had the resource material; you've read the Bible before. Why didn't you say anything?"

"I did. I marked it with the pink sticky note just like you told me." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"But you would have figured it out. You wasted all that time…" I sounded exasperated and my voice rose in volume.

"Dr. Smalls, there is another reason." He paused and looked up to Gideon and Emily playing chess then to Morgan falling asleep then back to me. He lowered his voice even more as he continued. "For about a month now, JJ has been close to being put on a different team. The director thinks that we can get by as a team of six instead of seven. She doesn't know yet. Gideon and I needed you to figure it out so that she looks good. By bringing you in you represent her. She needs some good light thrown on her so that she isn't transferred."

I tried to hide my surprise by glaring. "I never took you and Gideon to be one for Office politics. I thought you only cared about the cases."

"Well, we thought we rather play the politics then lose her. She's a vital part to our team. And you might have just saved her." He returned to reading and I slid back over to my side of the couch.

JJ almost taken off the team! I should be angry with Gideon and Spencer but I wasn't. I should be upset that they played me but I couldn't bring myself to it. Maybe it was because they had saved my friend. Maybe it was because they gave me the glory. No, that wasn't it. Maybe it was just because I couldn't picture myself mad at them. Or they were just good people and I knew it was for the best. They didn't do it to hurt me they did it to help me.

I replaced my glasses on my head and went back to reading my book. When I was about halfway through Morgan's cell phone rang. We all jumped a little as he took off his headphones and picked up the phone.

"Hey sweetness!" he said his face lighting up. He paused listening. "No, it is not my job to have it put on. Blame Gideon or Hotchner." He smiled and said, "Ok give me one second, baby doll." He laughed and opened a laptop that was near Gideon's elbow.

He turned it on and Garcia's face popped up on the screen. She looked better then the last time I saw her. She appeared to have gone home and gotten some sleep. I flipped to a clean sheet of notebook paper to take notes. Morgan shut off his cell phone and Hotchner came to stand over by us as Garcia began to talk.

"It has taken me forever to reach you guys!" She was talking into the video feed monitor. Her lips were a second behind her voice but the connection was clear. "Somebody did not turn on the laptop." Her eyes shifted over to Morgan in the chair. He ignored her.

Gideon interrupted her rant. "What have you got for us, Garcia?"

She smiled. "I have found all the dirt on Finch. And believe me that was hard. He's pretty clean but as usual I have delivered." She paused and she looked like she was searching for some things on another computer monitor. "Birth name: Quinton Lee Finch. He was born in 1946 in his home to a Marshall and Leigh Ann Finch. His mother was only sixteen and his father was twenty-six. The eldest of six children and all are living in the same area. Earned the nickname 'Bear' because he killed a Black Bear when he was ten. He attended Rainsville High School and then went to Seminary to become a Baptist minister. Married to a Loretta Lee in 1967, she was only fifteen. He has eight fully-grown children, four boys and four girls. All of them have moved out of Alabama and it appears they do not have contact with him. He wrote his book last year and it has become an international bestseller. He's a local celebrity and is considered a hometown hero even." Her eyes flicked back to us. She was waiting for questions.

Hotchner asked, "Any criminal record?"

"One minor traffic violation and one for disturbing the peace. He caused a riot last year when his book was released. Other than that he's clean."

"What church does he preach to?" I asked looking up from my paper.

"The Baptist Church of Rainsville."

"Original," Morgan muttered from his chair.

JJ walked into the frame behind Garcia with some papers in her hands. She smiled at me as I waved. "Hey, guys. I talked to Finch's kids. None of them have had contact with him for the past two years. And none of them follow his deeply religious beliefs. So don't even start thinking that one of them is the killer. I also just got off of the phone with the Rainsville Police Department. They said that they're willing to let you talk to Finch and are going to help in anyway possible."

"Good," Hotchner said. "Who's the detective in charge?"

JJ looked down at the paper in her hands. "A Jeremiah Shelley. I talked to him. He's the Chief of Police."

Gideon looked down at his watch. "We're going to land in two hours. We'll call you when we do and keep you posted." JJ nodded and Garcia waved goodbye. The screen went blank.

We all went back to what we were doing. Spencer sat in silence having finished his book. I went back to reading mine. Emily and Gideon went to finish their game of chess while Morgan went back to dosing. And Hotchner went back off in his little corner. After a few moments of reading I felt a presence over my shoulder. I looked up and it was Spencer reading what he had already memorized. It was completely pointless.

"Turn the page," he said his eyes scanning quickly what I hadn't read yet.

"I'm not done yet."

"You're a slow reader." He moved closer to me so that our shoulders were touching. "Or maybe I'm just really fast."

"I think you're just really fast," I said going back to my page.

There was a pause. "Is it hard taking notes on something while you're reading?"

"Yes, in college I normally tape my lectures and then take notes. Its so much easier when your eyes don't have to be in two places at once."

He looked thoughtful. Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose he said, "Do you want me to read it to you so you can take notes?"

I looked up at him. I could feel the surprise spreading over my face. When we were younger he used to read to me. It was how I found my love of books. The first time I had gone over to his house he had read to me _Les Misérables_ by Victor Hugo. He would stop ever so often and explain things to me he knew I wouldn't comprehend. I remember my fascination with the book. When I had had left his house I wanted to go back. Spencer hadn't finished the story. I had needed to know what happened to Jean Valjean, Cosette, Marius, Javert, and Eponine. That was my first introduction to European literature. Maybe he had remembered. Maybe he knew me! My breath caught in my throat.

"Sure," I whispered. I couldn't say anything else. But he didn't mention our friendship in Las Vegas or how he used to read to me.

He took the book from my hands and began in a low soft voice. I tried to concentrate on my notes but he was so close. His hair fell from behind his ear shaking ever so slightly as he read. I was flushing but he didn't notice. Spencer was too enrapt in the book to notice anything. Just as he was finishing up the book for me I felt the bump of the plane as it landed. Morgan stirred and Hotchner came over to wake him.

"Check mate," Emily stated.


	5. The Church Service

**Chapter Five – The Church Service**

_Ring! Ring!_ The familiar sound of the telephone woke me up from my deep sleep. We had arrived in Rainsville at twelve thirty in the morning. I had fallen asleep on the car ride there. I don't remember much of anything else (getting my room, putting on my pjs, falling asleep). But here I was in a generic hotel room being woken up by the phone.

I fumbled for the receiver and said groggily, "Hello?"

"Good morning Ms. Smalls this is your seven am wake up call. Mr. Gideon would like you to meet him in the lobby." The woman's voice was cheerful and overly enthusiastic.

I wanted to gag but just groaned and said, "Thank you." I paused thinking slowly. "Please tell Agent Gideon I'm up and will be down in a half hour." I hung up before she could get in a word.

Pulling myself out of bed I stumbled into the shower. After I finished that I put on a black and white print skirt with a red shirt. I decided not to straighten my hair and let it curl in natural ringlets. I quickly applied my makeup and grabbing my saddlebag I ran out of my room. I came to sudden halt though when I collided into Spencer.

"Sorry, Dr. Reid!" I gasped out.

He was wearing jeans and a white collared shirt with a blue/grey sweater vest and tie. His gun was placed securely in his holster on his hip. His hair was a little bit out of place but other than that he looked fine. In fact, he didn't look tired at all. He had been up for two nights with little sleep. How could he look so good?

Pushing his glasses up his nose he said, "Dr. Smalls, the lobby's this way."

"For the last time, Dr. Reid, its Beth." I turned on my heel and started walking down the hallway.

"You're mad at me, aren't you?" He said catching up to me.

"No," I said sighing, "I could never be mad at you. I wasn't mad at you when I figured out you let me decipher the quotes." I looked him squarely in the eye. "I wasn't mad at you then and I am not mad at you now."

He looked like he was struggling with something. I thought he was going to open up. I thought he was going to say why he never called me by my name. I thought maybe I had gotten through to him. I was holding my breath waiting for what he would say. We came to the elevator.

Pressing the down button he said, "Good."

I felt my hopes crash as the doors opened.

He let me step inside first and as he followed behind me I set my bag on the floor. The doors almost closed when I saw a hand slip through the crack. As the doors opened Morgan snaked between them and came to stand in between us.

"Hey, Beth. Did you sleep ok?"

"Yes, thanks for asking. I just wish I had gotten more than five hours of sleep."

He nodded and added, "Are you ready for today?" I bit my lip and nodded. I was afraid if I spoke my voice would shake. Giving my shoulder a squeeze he said, "You'll be fine." He smiled warmly and I smiled back. I glanced at Spencer. He had looked fine a moment ago, now he looked like he was going to be sick.

As the elevator doors opened I picked up my bag. Gideon was standing there with Hotchner talking about something. As we approached they stopped.

"There's been a change of plans," Hotchner said. "Emily's exhausted from the past week so we can't go visit Finch until the afternoon. She's crashed up in her room. She said she'd be ready by one. We just have to wait until then."

I groaned along with Morgan. Spencer stood silently. His was face impassible.

"You got me up for this?" Morgan sounded annoyed.

"Can I go back to bed?" I asked hopefully. I had been resisting the urge to rub my eyes since I had boarded the elevator.

"No, Beth I'm sorry. I think it's best we don't waste time," Gideon said taking me to sit on a couch in the lobby. "You and Reid should go to the church for the Sunday Service."

I nodded, still a bit dazed. Today was Sunday? My days were so jumbled and I had only been working on this case for two days. I had to think. Friday I had gone with JJ to the BAU, Saturday we had figured it out, so here we were on Sunday.

"Ok, Gideon," I said fighting a yawn. "What time does it start?"

"Fifteen minutes." I suppressed a groan. I was hungry, tired, and I didn't want to deal with this.

"Let me grab an apple. And can you drive us? I really don't want to walk." The hotel had breakfast in the mornings. So I grabbed an apple for myself while Spencer opted for a banana.

Now I was in the car driving to the church service that Finch was in charge of. I was feeling nauseated with worry and the unknown. Spencer was in the front seat biting his nails, the banana peel discarded on the floor. He had brought his saddlebag along too and it was in his lap. I was fighting to stay awake (while eating) in the backseat of the car. I didn't know how I was going to stay conscious during the service.

Gideon pulled up to a small one-room church house. It was away from the town at the edge of the main road. There were no other buildings in sight, just trees. The whitewashed walls were peeling and the green trim was faded. The steeple had one bell that tolled pitifully as the doors were being opened. The cars that were parked in the parking lot were old and decrepit. Some older folks were shuffling in as we approached.

As we stepped out of the car Gideon said, "I'll be back to pick you up in forty five minutes. Then we'll discuss actually visiting Finch."

I waved as Gideon pulled out. I felt better now that I had eaten. There was some things that Spencer and I had to get straight before we went in, though. He still had his gun in his holster. I shook my head.

"Dr. Reid, you need to put your gun away." He complied stowing it in his bag. "We have to change our mannerisms a bit. We're entering a different world in there. You need to be authoritative. I need to be timid. This is the church were women are supposed to be uneducated and meek." He didn't look like he comprehended what I had just said. "Shake people's hands. Don't let me talk. And under no circumstances do you introduce me as Dr. Smalls."

He didn't answer my speech but asked, "Do you believe in God, Dr. Smalls?"

I sighed as we walked into the church. "Yes. But I suppose you're like Einstein. You don't believe in God."

"Yes," he said pausing, "and no." I wrinkled my nose in confusion. " Einstein said, 'I believe in Spinoza's God who reveals himself in the orderly harmony of what exists, not in a God who concerns himself with fates and actions of human beings.' I think that yes there was a beginning to the universe but I do not believe God created it. So no I do not believe like Albert Einstein and yes I do not believe in God."

"How about fate, destiny?" I took a seat all the way over in the back next to the window. I placed my bag in between us.

"Nope. For everything in life there is a scientific explanation. There is no fate or destiny. I believe in actions and consequences. There is an answer to every question."

"There's always one question you cannot answer." He sat down next to me moving our bags to the floor as I said this. He looked up confused. "Why." The confusion was still there. "Why do hydrogen atoms have only one electron, yet they are stable? Why do Hydrogen and Oxygen atoms bond to form a liquid? Why do humans have an imagination that lets them discover new things? Why did the universe start? Why do people fall in love?" He opened his mouth to reply but I stopped him with my hand. "There are scientific justifications to all of these questions, but one very important one still remains. Why?" His mouth closed and he looked down at his hands. His face flushed with anger or embarrassment. Which one I was not sure.

We were mercifully saved from this conversation as the preacher stood up, Finch. He was far less formidable then I had pictured him. He was only a little taller than me, skinny, and bald. His hands shook slightly from age as he fumbled for his notes. As he began to speak I noticed his teeth were yellow and almost all of them were gone. His voice was strong and frightening, though. It echoed around the whole room redoubling in volume and in force. There was no way I could possibly fall asleep with him preaching.

He first welcomed everyone to church. Then said, "Would everyone please greet your neighbor. For God has brought them here in love and peace." He looked back to Spencer and I.

Everyone stood and complied with his request. Spencer and I stood as I saw Finch make his way down the aisle to us. We met him at the end of our pew.

Shaking Spencer's hand he said, "Good morning I'm Pastor Finch."

I could see Spencer controlling his flinch reflex. "Hello. I'm Dr. Spencer Reid and this is my friend Beth Smalls." I stood timidly behind him and quietly took Finch's hand.

"Where are you two from?"

Spencer pounced on the question a bit too eagerly. "We're from Virginia. We're here on a case for the FBI."

I wanted to hit my head on my hand and scream, 'Idiot!' But I didn't. I just pinched him on his back. He hid the pain well as Finch replied to this fact.

"Really?" he asked his eyes finding mine. I smiled but remained silent.

"Yes, Ms. Smalls is here actually to talk to you Pastor Finch." I felt more relieved. He had changed the subject entirely. "About your book."

"My book. You read it then?" Finch asked as I stepped out from behind Spencer.

"Yes," I read it a little while ago. "It's a truly remarkable literary work." It wasn't a lie. The book was remarkable-remarkably prejudiced and naïve.

"Do you agree with it?" Finch asked as I came to stand in front of him.

I slowly nodded. I was afraid if I opened my mouth I would say something I would later regret. Then Finch asked me something that was totally unexpected.

"Are you a virgin, Beth?"

I felt myself flush and Spencer, I was sure, was doing the same. I was a virgin at the time. But honestly I wanted to say no and see the look on his face. I wanted to laugh about it when his face went from kind to mean. But then I didn't want to see Spencer's face if he thought I wasn't pure. If he thought that I had shared someone else's bed-that someone else had shared my bed… I don't know if I could bear to look at his face.

"Yes," I said quite loudly. I felt a rush of air from behind me. Spencer must have been holding his breath.

"Good," he said smiling, "I hope you enjoy your visit to Rainsville. And please enjoy my sermon." He walked back up the aisle as more people began to take their seats.

Spencer and I went back to our seats near the window. I was still flustered from what had just occurred. As we sat down Finch resumed his post at the podium. He began in that same booming tone again. Spencer opened his mouth to say something to me but I shushed him. It wasn't polite to whisper in church. He pulled out a piece of paper from his saddlebag and scribbled something down. He slid it to me across the pew.

**_I'm a virgin, too_.**

I felt myself flush. If he was trying to find a connection between us, he'd failed.

_**Are you trying to make me feel better?**_ I wrote to him.

He looked sheepish for a second then wrote: **_Yes_**

I sighed. _It didn't work, sorry. Why did you say we were from the FBI?_

He's face changed a little. He looked back at me innocently. _**You didn't mention it outside the church. So I thought it would be ok. I didn't want to lie.**_

I wanted to shake him but I just put my head in my hands. I wasn't mad at him, just annoyed. After a moment I wrote back: _**All right, point taken. But pay attention to Finch. Can't you profile him or something?**_

He smiled as he read what I had written and quickly scribbled: _**I already profiled him. I don't need to pay attention at all.**_

I scowled at his note. He was just too perfect. _**Well, we can't all be as amazing as you. So, I need to concentrate on what he is saying.**_

As I slid the note back to him I saw him as the little boy that I had known. He was short with the same haircut and glasses. He used to write notes to me like this all the time. We had sat next to each other in church and had written notes. I remember how excited I had been when I was ten and could finally attend the eleven am church service. My family always sat next to the Reids. My older brother, Kevin, had been so angry. He had wanted to write notes with Spencer.

I wanted to take the piece of paper back and ask if he remembered me. I wanted this game of cat and mouse to end. But of course I didn't and of course Spencer didn't say anything.

We sat there in silence for sometime until Spencer passed me a note that said: _**I don't think he knows our killer.**_

_**I know. **_


	6. Intimacy

_Just a little vignette. I wanted to show the complications Beth is facing trying to befriend Spencer. I think it is really important for Spencer to open up even it seems like he isn't. So here yah go...enjoy! Oh, thanks for all the positive reviews I try to respond to as many of them as possible._

**Chapter Six – Intimacy**

"Shotgun!" Morgan called to Emily as he headed outside.

"Bye Emily, "I called. Emily just rolled her eyes at Morgan and followed him out the door to Hotchner's car. That just left Spencer and I standing in the lobby waiting for Gideon. Emily was feeling much better so she, Morgan, and Hotchner were going to talk to the Chief of Police and interview some townsfolk.

Gideon had come back to pick up Spencer and I from church. He could tell we were very disheartened after our encounter with Finch. When we had arrived back at the hotel I had gone back upstairs to change into something more comfortable. Well, something more offensive to Finch. Gideon and I had made the mutual decision to have me wear clothes that Finch would disapprove of. And to have me act a certain way which he would also find odious. I was going to have to out on an act and oddly enough I was looking forward to it. Nothing Finch could say was going to upset me. I had been hurt before and I knew I was going to get hurt again. All in a day's work for an English Professor.

I had called JJ when I had gotten back. She found the whole thing rather amusing. Spencer had remained really quiet the whole time Gideon and I had been discussing it. His fourth fingernail was becoming shorter and shorter, though.

"Did you know shotgun comes from the Wild West?" Spencer asked as I took a seat on a paisley couch in the lobby. "When the stage coaches carried valuables they used to have someone sit next to the driver with a shotgun in case they got attacked by outlaws…or Native Americans."

He sat on the arm of the couch by my right arm. "Yeah, I did know that." I frowned thinking. "I don't know how I know that…but I do."

"Its in one of your books," he said reaching behind him. He pulled out one of my earlier novels: _Outlaws and the Sheriff_. I felt my color rising as I mumbled an, 'oh yeah'. I took the book in my hands. The pages were worn and the cover was nearly faded.

"Why have you been reading my novels, Dr. Reid?" I asked handing back the paperback. "There's no information to be gathered from them. No thoughtful insights to the mind of a genius. They're one-dimensional stories with a simple beginning, middle, and end."

He turned the volume over in his hands. "I wanted to get to know you before I met you." He let out a breath. "You always put a little bit of yourself in every book you write, Dr. Smalls. Every thought…every character…every place…every time your character feels love…or feels something. It comes from you." He paused and looked down for a second unsure. I smiled in spite of myself. He was so much more lovable when he was insecure. "It's my way of getting close to you."

"Yet, I'm not close to you at all, Dr. Reid." He looked up taken aback. "And, I have no way of getting close to you."

What I hadn't realized was that he had opened up to me. He had put down the fears and the anxieties and talked to me. It was intimacy…closeness…proximity. And it was intoxicating me. The more of it I had the more I wanted. I just didn't know it then. And worst of all I didn't know if he wanted it as well.


	7. The Car Ride

_A/N: One more chapter before the encounter with Finch, I promise. And I am sorry about the shortness of the previous chapter…but I had to set a few things up! Sorry about this being sooooo late, I just started school. Thanks for the great reviews everyone!_

**Chapter Seven – The Car Ride**

"Beth, the outfit is fine. The point is to see how far his convictions will affect him. This is a great way to get to know what our unsub is like," Gideon said turning the key to the car.

"I know but I just wanted to make sure," I said putting on my seatbelt. "You don't think this is a bit too much?"

The confidence I had had about my outfit moments ago had vanished. I had chosen white shorts, a very low cut pink tank top, and sneakers. I had put on more makeup than usual and put some defrizzing gel and spray on my hair. The humidity was making it frizz uncontrollably, but it was better with the products in my hair. It was an outfit any girl would wear in 80-degree weather. But I was nervous, not with meeting Finch but with Gideon's reaction. Gideon made me nervous. I couldn't help it.

"No," he said backing up the car. "We want to offend Finch not give him something to praise you for."

Spencer sat in the back right behind me. "Why did Chief Shelley not come along with us? Wouldn't it be easier if he did?"

"Yes," said Gideon pulling out of the parking lot, "and no. He's willing to let the FBI do what it wants without his involvement. I am certain Finch would not be as willing to talk to him. He's more open to a higher authority."

Spencer nodded, trying to look convinced. His fingernail was almost completely gone on the fourth nail. He didn't like were Gideon was going with this. We sat in silence. Driving down Main Street we passed cute stores and houses. People were milling about doing everyday things. Did they know that someone just down the corner had pushed someone else to kill? That their beloved town hero could have written something to make someone hate others? That he would cause hurt and pain to others he didn't even know? How could a community stand behind such a man and call it morally correct? I began to feel sick.

Gideon turned right unto a dirt road. The bumps and ditches disagreed with my stomach. This was not going to be fun.

"Are you originally from Pennsylvania, Beth?" Gideon asked turning up the air conditioning.

"No…" I answered pausing. Should I answer truthfully? I bit my lip. If Spencer hadn't said anything by now he never would. "…No, I'm actually from a suburb of Las Vegas."

Gideon glanced back to Spencer in the mirror. I did as well. He was looking over Finch's book again. Reading my annotations and highlighted phrases I had made. Some he was adding to, others he looked like he was agreeing with, and others he was crossing out completely. He was probably paying very close attention but he didn't show it. His face stayed relaxed, his eyes didn't flicker up, and his wild pace through the novel remained the same.

"What drew you to Penn State?" Gideon asked his eyes flicking back to me.

"Well, I got a full ride on an academic scholarship, which is really rare for them to do. And their English program is one of the best in the country. I was actually really lucky to have been given an opportunity like that." I tucked a curl behind my ear and twisted another around my finger. "I know it was far away from my family but it was the best offer and I knew what major I wanted to be…it seemed like everything else fell into place."

Gideon grew thoughtful for a moment. "Did you graduate high school early like Reid or…"

"Oh no," I said cutting him off. "The university was really nice and let me graduate with my PhD last year even though I hadn't completed all my other courses. William and Mary then presented me with a position as a teacher. In exchange they're letting me continue all of my courses there for free."

"What class are you teaching?"

"European literature with a specific focus on women. It really is a great course. We have discussions and compare movies to the book. I try to make English as interesting as possible for every student. I give notes and I give lectures. Something no other professor I know does."

Gideon smiled thoughtfully. "You seem to really like teaching."

"Yes," I said smiling. "Teaching your peers allows you not only to impart information to others but to be imparted with information yourself."

Gideon went back to being silent. I glanced at the clock. It read one o'clock. We had started off earlier than expected but I felt like we were getting nowhere. The road was narrow and uneven. The same trees went by again and again. No flowers, no animals just the same green woods again and again. I felt like I was stuck on a treadmill - we were running but we hadn't covered any distance.

Spencer had meanwhile put down Finch's book and had picked up mine. He was so perplexing. He knew every line in that book by heart and yet there he sat rereading it. What about my books puzzled him? What caused him to not understand their meaning? They were simple. They had no complicated plot twist, no complicated characters, and no complicated ideas. He understood the books completely so in essence he understood me. Then there was the deeper question.

Why was he trying to understand me?

I was an open and shut case. I wore my emotions on my sleeve. I loved to laugh and joke. But I could also cry and scream. I had had no bad childhood to recall terrible memories from, no bad experiences to recollect. The female characters from my books each had a part of me in them, that's true. But they weren't completely me; they each grew away from myself and stood alone. Why was he so fascinated by my personality, my being? My flaws were easy to pick out; my strengths were visible enough for everyone to observe. What made me so mystifying that he could not ask me directly? That Spencer could not talk to me friend to friend, man to woman, scientist to specimen, even coworker to coworker? Was I really that unapproachable?

I curled my finger around one of my ringlets and sighed. I glanced at the clock. It read 2:30. I suppressed a groan. Was this car ride never going to end? Gideon glanced over to me and gave a reassuring smile. I smiled back but until then I had forgotten I was scared. That timid smile made me sick with worry again.

"So," said Gideon turning right on a road that was taking us up a mountain, "what made you decide to become an English professor?"

I paused. A simple enough question, but could anyone really pinpoint the moment or the time or the place were they chose their career? Did anyone really know that exact spot in time when they decided what path their life would take? I did…but was I abnormal because of it?

"Well…"

I glanced back in the mirror at Spencer and smiled. He had fallen asleep. His glasses lay in his hands and the book on the seat beside him. He looked lovely. All the worry and uncertainty and awkwardness was gone. He was just a man sleeping. Not a genius, not my old friend.

Still smiling I continued, "…There was a boy at my church in Las Vegas…" I glanced back at him in the mirror. Spencer had stirred a little but not unnaturally. "…I can't remember his name or what he looked like, but he used to read to me." It was a lie but I didn't want to tell Gideon. "I hadn't really been interested in books up until age ten. I remember I went over to his house and he read _Les Misérables_ to me. I had wanted to go outside and play. But he told me that books were the greatest game of all. That you could visit those people and places whenever you wanted…all you had to do was read it. That dept of human emotion and anguish I had never experienced before, as I had reading _Les Misérables_. I loved it. I wanted to become those characters. To live those lives. And I knew. Right then and there I knew I wanted to read for a living."

"Sometimes that is all it takes one person to change the course of your entire life," Gideon said. "I often wonder what would have happened to Reid if he hadn't met this girl when he was younger."

I felt my pulse quicken. Could Gideon be talking about me? Could Spencer and I have made an equal amount of impact upon each other? I glanced back to Spencer. He was still sound asleep but I saw his fist clench a little. Could he subconsciously know that Gideon was telling me about…myself?

"When Reid was eleven he met a girl who opened his eyes to many things. He wouldn't go into detail, he's so impersonal, but from what I could gather she really made an impact on him. She taught him that he wasn't a freak and that he shouldn't be afraid of his thoughts and ideas." Gideon shook his head. "To think that one girl could have had such an impact on him…quite remarkable. I mean with all that he had accomplished by the time he was eleven and she really got him. She really made him understand himself when no one else could."

I wanted to cry. I wanted to burst into tears and throw myself into the backseat and give Spencer a hug. I wanted to tell him I remembered. That he had changed my life just as equally as I had changed his. I was so happy! I could feel the endorphins and adrenalin pulsing through me. How could I be so stupid as to not think that Spencer didn't remember me? How could I not see that he had all along? That he was just as shy, just as scared, and just as awkward as I was? How could I have been so blind?

I was really thankful Gideon hadn't put two and two together. Otherwise I wouldn't have known what to say. How does one explain an acquaintance were both of the people involved were altered forever? How do you tell someone who has not experienced something like that?

I remained silent. To excited for words, to scared of happiness and to joyous for thought. I would talk to Spencer later. After I met Finch. After this encounter with someone who should be held responsible for those women's deaths. I took a deep breath as Gideon pulled into the driveway. Here I was heading into the unknown yet again. But now I had some happiness. Some consolation that no matter what there would be some sunshine at the end.


	8. Confronting the Instigator

A/N: Sorry about the lateness of this chapter. I've just started school and its hard to find time to write! Hope the build up has been worth it and please keep reviewing! You guys always inspire me.

Chapter Eight - Confronting the Instigator

As we rounded the corner into the driveway I gasped. Apparently Finch had ignored the part in the Bible were it talks about tithing to give to the poor. His house was a four story farm house. It was white with blue trim, wrap-around porch, shutters, and was up about three feet off of the ground. It was newly built and in good condition. Gideon didn't look that surprised but I know I did.

"What ever happened to helping the poor?" I asked unbuckling and grabbing my bag.

I jumped a little as Spencer said right next to my ear, "The Bible is like any work of literature, it's subject to interpretation. You should know that."

I felt my heart do a little somersault. His breath was warm and comforting against my neck. I wanted to turn around and hug him, to wrap my arms around him and tell him I remembered him too. Even if the arms were hesitant to respond to hug me back I wanted to feel them around me.

SLAM!

Gideon had shut his car door a little bit too hard in my opinion. Spencer jumped a little and I had closed my eyes really fast. As I collected my thoughts and stepped out of the car I was greeted by a dog. It was pretty big and obviously a mutt. The color of his coat was a fluffy spotty mix of black, tan, and white. The name on his collar read: Aaron. I patted him lovingly on the head as he bounded on by. Gideon had obviously ignored him, Spencer did the same.

"Hello, boy! You're such a good boy."

He lapped playfully at my hand. As I ran my hand down his spine I felt all his bones jutting out sharply underneath the fur. It was apparent that he was underfed and I felt my heart go out to him. To be so happy after so much pain. Why couldn't humans be so? To still feel love and happiness after so much disregard for your feelings. When I lie in bed at night I wish I still had the loving capacity of Aaron but I don't and none of us do.

"Heel Aaron," called a soft voice from the screen porch door.

He obediently bounced away, like a rabbit, and ran up the porch. My eyes followed Aaron as he happily sat down beside this small woman. It was Loretta Finch. She was only about four foot nine inches. Her sandy brown hair was pulled back tightly into a bun. She wore a loose fitting dress that covered her from head to toe. Her features were small and delicate, a natural beauty. Her body was graceful and rigid all at once. She was like a small child. Everything was about her and yet she knew that she was the inferior one.

"Can I help you?" Loretta asked as Gideon climbed the stairs to stand in front of the screen door. Her voice was soft and music, but scared. That of someone of so much potential but held back from bigoted ideas.

He flipped open his badge and showed it to her. "Hello, I'm Special Agent Jason Gideon. This is Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid," he said motioning to Spencer. "And this is Dr. Elizabeth Smalls." I waved through the screen door. "We're from the FBI. We were wondering if your husband was home, we'd like to talk to him?"

She hadn't moved her position from the door and Aaron was still sitting patiently by her side. She looked sacred and uncertain but her voice retained the same quality of musicality.

"Why would the FBI need to talk to Reverend Finch?" She asked her eyes shifting from Gideon to Spencer, ignoring me completely.

I jumped in. "We're here to talk to him about his recent book _Women and Their Place in the World_. Some of his quotes were found at crime scenes in the Washington DC area." Loretta looked at me as though I had two heads.

"We were hoping if we could talk to him," Spencer said jumping in, "he might be able to help us pinpoint who our killer is."

She bit her lip for one second and said, "Let me go ask my husband. Wait here."

She turned sharply on her heel and Aaron lagged on behind her. For someone so imposing she was so insecure about everything that she did.

As she walked away I murmured, "I thought people in the South were supposed to be nice and friendly."

Gideon and Spencer both chose to ignore me. The seconds slowly dragged by as we waited.

Gideon turned to me suddenly and said, "If anything happens and you become uncomfortable you are to pat me on the knee. And we will get out of here as smoothly as possible."

I nodded. Now I was nervous, though. I had to do a secret signal just to get out of this situation? I wanted to tell Gideon he was ridiculous. That I was going to be ok, but I knew it wouldn't sound convincing. I chanced a glance at Spencer his face was unreadable as he stood to Gideon's right. I thought that maybe his face would give me comfort or strength but it only made me feel worse.

Loretta sailed back from the dark hallway and quietly opened the screen door for us. "Revered Finch can only talk for about half an hour," she said ushering us in. "Down the hallway first door to the right." She stared at me for a few seconds expecting me to follow her but when I didn't she left us there.

The house was simple enough inside. The ceilings were low and the furniture simple but it was quite apparent that everything was very expensive. It was sickening walking down the hallway and seeing all the pictures of his children. In none of the pictures were they older than eighteen. They had apparently all shipped out once they had graduated high school or were all adults.

"Oh, Dr. Reid and Miss. Smalls," Finch said as we walked into his library, "such a pleasure to see you again." He shook Spencer's hand and ignored my outstretched one. "And this must be Agent Gideon."

I took a seat in the middle of the couch, Gideon was on my left. Spencer chose to not sit and walk around examining the books lined along the shelves. I surveyed the room from where I sat, deliberately not allowing my eyes to follow Spencer. The couch we were sitting on was facing a wall of windows, the sunlight was streaming in through them at the moment. Finch was sitting across from us in a leather arm chair with his back to the windows. On every available spot left on the walls, bookshelves were there, with what must have been over a thousand books on them. I was completely smitten with the room. If I had enough space in my apartment I would have a room in my house filled with books. The wood was a rich deep mahogany and the carpet, wall color, window curtains, and furnishings were a deep cranberry. Bronze accents had been placed strategically around the room.

"Yes, I'm Gideon," Gideon said nudging my bag over with his foot. "And this is _Dr. _Smalls." He emphasized the word doctor and Finch's face contorted a bit.

"Oh?" said Finch as he surveyed me. "I didn't know she was a doctor." He was completely ignoring the fact that I was even in his presence.

"Yes, Reverend. I am a Professor of English at the College of William and Mary," I said crossing my legs lazily.

"Well, _Doctor_ Smalls," Finch said his voice growing dangerously quiet, "how could you possibly help with this case? Apparently there were people being killed not books."

Spencer stopped his scanning of the book titles as Gideon looked at me.

"For your information, Rev. Finch I was the one who figured out that your book was connected to the crimes." I was feeling attacked. I leaned into Finch and whispered back, "So, as you can see I am very important to this case."

It was me and Finch having a staring contest, well that's what it felt like. He was glaring at me and I at him. But I knew I was going to win, because I had a greater cause.

"I thought you were a good Christian woman, Dr. Smalls," Finch said breaking contact and sitting back. "It seems to me that I was wrong."

"Right and wrong is based on morals and personal opinions," Spencer said. The matter of fact voice was strong and confident. "Your morals say that she is wrong and mine say that she is right. But the greater question is which on of us is right?"

Finch glared at Spencer as he took a seat down next to me. His glasses slipped down a little as he spoke. My hand found his knee. It was bony but substantial as I gave it a small squeeze. He looked at me confused and I hastily took my hand off. To cover up what had just happened, Spencer awkwardly grabbed his saddlebag from behind the couch. Reaching into it Spencer pulled out the four crime scene photos of Finch's quotes. As Spencer laid them out across the table Gideon narrated.

"These four quotes were found at each of the crime scenes. Each number corresponds to a number in your book, along with the quote. They were written in the victim's blood." Finch picked up the first picture and studied it. "Do you know anyone who might be capable of doing this? Who might kill someone to conform to your novel and beliefs?"

Finch threw down the photograph and practically shouted, "My beliefs say that we should convert people not kill them! This is not how we should be depicted in the media!" He looked at Spencer. "You with your liberal ideas. God is nothing to you anymore!" He looked at me. "And you! Educated and equal with us. You are no equal! This is an illusion that has been created! We are open about it…but most men they just think it. This prejudice will never go away, it will always be there beneath the surface." Finch had stood up now and his small frame was shaking.

"Rev. Finch, you still…" Gideon began.

Spencer jumped up. His arms were shaking with anger that was just beneath the surface. "How dare you imply that I do not treat Dr. Smalls the same as another male. You have been out of the real world for too long Rev. Finch. There is no prejudice or inequality! And don't you dare accuse us of these crimes when you yourself are worse than anyone from out of here!"

I was shocked. The mild man that I thought I knew so well had just yelled at someone. There hadn't been a discussion or a build up just anger. I was scared. To think that this kind of anger lurked just beneath the surface was terrifying.

"Dr. Reid," I said timidly reaching up and touching his elbow, "it's ok. Sit back down."

Spencer took off his glasses and ran his hand through his hair as he sat back down. I wanted to loop my arm through his and rest my head on his shoulder. I wanted to let him know it was ok. That he didn't need to fight my battles. But all I did was reach over and squeeze his knee again. This time when he looked over at me he had understanding in his eyes. I smiled and nodded. He just looked grim.

Meanwhile, Loretta hearing the heated debate had come over to stand by the door.

"Is everything ok here, Rev Finch?" she asked timidly.

Finch had taken out a handkerchief and wiping down his forehead he said, "Yes…everything is fine Loretta. Our guests were just leaving." He shook Gideon's hand. I thought it best not to offer mine. "Please show them to the door." He sat back down triumphantly.

"Good bye, Reverend," I said following Loretta out of the door with Spencer and Gideon behind me.

As we walked down the hallway I looked at all the happy smiling faces hanging on the walls. The faces were smiling but the eyes were unhappy. The deep sadness and oppression was clear. It was how I felt as I walked out of the house. We had gotten nowhere. No closer to knowing our killer, we only understood his emotions and feelings. No names or churches were he might attend. I was feeling aggravated and frustrated and angry. Agh! This vicious cycle was not going to end until we caught him...or someone else was killed. I hoped it would be the first one, no one else needed to die because of this.

"I am so sorry about all the commotion we cause, Mrs. Finch," I said as Spencer and Gideon walked down the porch steps. I had lagged behind because I had wanted to make sure she was ok.

"Dr. Smalls," Loretta said quietly, "can I tell you something?" She was as nervous as a butterfly trying to land on water.

"Of course, Mrs. Finch," I said taking her hands in mine. I glanced back inside quickly before turning back to her. "And you won't get in trouble. Not with me, not with the police, and not with your husband."

She licked her lips nervously and whispered urgently. "My husband…" She glanced nervously inside. Gathering her self she tried again. "…my husband, about two years ago, took in a young man by the name of Jacoby Ewell. He was from one of our sister churches in Virginia. He was a real trouble maker. Nothing major, like murder but the Reverend there thought we might be able to help him. She took a deep breath and her voice sped up even more. "He was wild. Wouldn't listen, arguing with my husband. Then something happened one night, we're not really sure what happened, but he came home and was completely different. He became obsessive with Reverend Finch's book and the Bible and…"

I took her by the shoulders and squeezed them gently. "Did he hurt you, Mrs. Finch?"

A few tears had dropped from her eyes. "He was volatile. The littlest thing would set him off. My husband never saw it, it was always around me." Embarrassed she wiped the tears from her eyes. "I never told Reverend Finch about it. He went back to Virginia about eight months ago."

"Do you still hear from him?"

She shook her head. "He was so close to my husband when he was here and then when he left…it was like he had dropped off the face of the Earth."

"Mrs. Finch," I said resisting the urge to hug her, "even though it may feel like you did something wrong, you didn't. You did nothing wrong." I fumbled for my business card in my bag. "If ever get in trouble or you just want to talk, give me a call ok." I handed her the card. "Have a good day Mrs. Finch and thank you. You did the right thing."

She nodded as I walked down the steps to the car. As I climbed into the front seat Gideon and Spencer looked at me questioningly. I smiled secretively as I buckled into the front seat.

"You guys owe me big time," I said as Gideon turned on the ignition.

Gideon tried to hide his confusion but I saw Spencer give a slow smile. Today was just turning out to be so good.


	9. Dinner and a Chat

_A/N: I always wondered how each of the team members eats, they never show it and I've picked out a eating habit for each of them. (My friend has always wondered that…so Meg I have delivered!). Hope you enjoy…and I am not posting another chapter until I get at least two reviews…you people are slacking!_

**Chapter Nine - Dinner and a Chat**

"JJ."

"Hey Jen! Is Garcia there…"

We were sitting around a round table in the hotel's restaurant. It was my first solid meal all day and I was hungry. I ordered a Chicken Alfredo in a white sauce. I was trying to be polite and not scarf it down but it was taking all of my will power to do so. Morgan wasn't even trying to pretend that he wasn't hungry. He had ordered a steak and potatoes, a soup, a salad, mozzarella sticks, and chicken fingers. It was making me sick watching him stuff his mouth with everything there. Hotchner had ordered a salmon dish and was very meticulously cutting up the fish before eating it. Emily had ordered a huge Caesar Salad and was slowly getting her way through it. Spencer was eating chicken fingers and French fries with tons of ketchup. And Gideon had ordered the a hoagie sandwich with chips.

Morgan had set up the laptop on the table and JJ's happy face was seen clearly on the other side.

"Garcia," Penelope swiveled into view behind JJ. Morgan hastily tried to wipe away at his mouth as he straightened up.

"Hey baby doll. Did you miss me?" Morgan asked.

"Every night and day, sweetie," she said smiling her characteristic smile.

Hotchner cleared his throat. Emily tried to hide her snort but it was not easily done. I smiled and Spencer just continued eating his fries.

"How are things over there?" Gideon asked taking a crunch of his chips.

"Nothing's happened," JJ said leaning against the back counter.

"Zilch. Nada. And I'm bored," Garcia said twisting her pen in between her fingers. "Is anything exciting going on over there?"

"We got a whole lot of nothing talking to the neighbors and people in the town," Emily said taking a sip of water.

"They aren't that willing to talk. They look up to Finch as a hero. One person even went so far as to talk about him like Jesus Chirst."

Morgan said talking a mozzarella stick and dipping it ferociously into marinara sauce.

"Well apparently your friend over here," Hotchner said pointing to me, "hit gold when she went to Finch's" He took a small bite of salmon. I smiled my most innocent smile ever at Hotchner. He gave a small one back.

"Yay!" Garcia exclaimed clasping her hands. "Something to do!"

"What happened?" asked JJ seriously but she looked pleased.

"Well," I said taking a big gulp of milk, "we hadn't gotten anything from Finch. In fact we were asked to leave, very politely, of course." I decided I didn't want to go into the details about what had transpired there. I would tell JJ later privately, if I had time. "Just when we were about to leave Mrs. Finch pulled me aside and told me that she and her husband had taken in a kid about a year ago. She said he was violent and then suddenly he changed and became obsessed with Finch's book. He left bout six months ago."

"Do you have a name?" Garcia asked fingers poised over the keys.

"Jacoby Ewell…he's from Virginia," I added.

Garcia's eyes scanned back and forth across the computer screen. She was muttering to herself. Spencer caught my eye from across the table. He still looked a little upset from what had happened this afternoon. I wanted to reach my hand across the table and grab his one that was just lying there. Instead I just grabbed a French fry.

"Hey!" he said grabbing my wrist.

"Can I have it….please," I was pleading with him as I batted my eyelashes.

He held my wrist a second longer. My skin was burning, he was setting me on fire. He hesitantly released my wrist and I imagined it was because he had felt it too.

"Found him," Garcia said triumphantly. We waited with baited breath as she began to tell us of Ewell.


	10. The Suspect and the Past

_A/N: Keep reviewing people! Otherwise there will be a HUGE lull in chapter updates...I know I'm evil and I hope you enjoy!_

**Chapter Ten - The Suspect and The Past**

Garcia looked pleased as she looked up at our faces. She swiveled back and forth a bit her hands folded manically. 

"I just love keeping you guys in suspense," she said smiling sweetly and evilly at the same time. Morgan had to put his mouth behind his hand to hide the smile.

"Garcia, will you just tell us," Hotchner said taking a bite of salmon and chewing angrily.

"Not a fan of the dramatic, huh Hotch?" Garcia said as she began to scan her computer screen. "Fine, fine," she said as Hotchner glared at her.

"Jacoby Ewell. He was born in 1986 to Jacob and Martha Ewell in Washington DC. He was a pretty normal kid until he about five when he threatened to kill one of his classmates in kindergarten."

"Well that's normal," Emily said taking a bite of salad.

"Yeah, well that's when things went downhill for him. Was put in DC's Juvenile Detention Center five years later for attacking a boy in class. His teachers said he was always quiet, aloof and that he never really made any friends. Was regularly arrested for about eight years after that. He's been arrested for everything from dealing drugs to home invasions to theft to assault. About a year ago he fell off the grid. Nothing about him. Its like he doesn't exist anymore." Garcia was sounding a bit shocked. I think we all were shocked. If she couldn't find him who could? She continued saying, "His parents don't know where he is. No home address, no credit cards, no phone numbers. Nothing."

"So where back were we started," I said leaning over to grab another of Spencer's fries. He looked like he was debating whether or not to grab my wrist. I was hoping he would, but when he didn't I just sank back down into my chair quite dejectedly.

"Well, not quite," said Morgan. "You were told by Mrs. Finch that one of the sister churches of the Rainsville Baptist Church sent him down here. So we just have to go to that one and dig a little there."

"There's nineteen churches in the greater DC area that's associated with Finch," Garcia said as her fingers clicked away at the keyboard.

I tried not to groan. This was never going to end!

"JJ," Hotchner said, "I want you to set up a press conference. Talk about Ewell and get his description out to local authorities. We need to find him. Right now he is our number one suspect."

JJ nodded and went out of the screen. I could tell by the look in her eyes that I was going to have to talk to her when we arrived home. I could never hide anything from her.

Garcia hit a few keys and a picture of a young man popped up on the screen. It was his mug shot. I wanted to see a disheveled distorted man. I wanted to see a man that if you took one look at him you knew he was crazy. You knew he had the capability of hurting women, of killing them, of leaving them humiliated and torn. But the picture was not any of these things. He was tall, lean, almost to the point of being lanky. His face was round and full though and his blue eyes twinkled with a mysterious and bad boy air. His hair was black and long. He was cute, he was attractive, and really young. He looked barely eighteen when it was taken. But the thing that caught my attention the most was his crooked smile that danced upon his face. It was so friendly and welcoming and yet it scared me as well.

"He's just a child," Emily said a little awed by this fact.

"That's how most killer start out," Spencer chimed in. "Normally with just small animals then they don't get the same amount of high as they do when they do it again. Something in their brains makes them a killer."

"No," I said looking at him, "he was never going to be a killer. A small time offender yes, but something happened that night. That night he came home and Mrs. Finch said he was different. Something changed him, something made him feel it was his duty to kill these women."

I could feel my words sink in. The meaning of what was going to happen, what did happen, had finally hit us.

"We're coming home tonight," Gideon said after a pause.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was a loud knock at my door. I was back in hotel room. I was the first one who left the dinner table. The tension was too thick, it was nearly suffocating me.

"Just a minute," I said preoccupied.

I was trying to pack as quickly and neatly as possible. We were leaving in about two hours and I am a bit obsessive about how my suitcase is packed. The knock became more persistent.

"Alright," I said zipping up my bag, "I'm coming, I'm coming."

I walked over to the door and stood up on my tiptoes to look out the peephole. All I saw was a chin but I knew who it was. It was Spencer. I opened the door and let him in. He walked in nervously. His thumbs were looped awkwardly through his pant loops. He came and stood in the middle of the hotel room. He looked like he didn't know what he was doing there.

"Dr. Reid," I said closing the door, "what are you doing here?"

He looked down at his feet and then back up at me. "I wanted to make sure you were ok. You looked pretty shaken after…after…"

I cut him off. I couldn't stand seeing him struggling. "I'm fine Dr. Reid. I just wasn't expecting you to yell at Finch like that."

"Oh," he said, "you weren't..."

I shrugged and said quietly, "I've had worse."

"Worse?" He sounded like he was in disbelief.

"Worse."

He remained silent for a while. I was looking at him intently having an inner debate with myself. Should I bring it up? Should I remain silent?

"Dr. Reid?" I asked slowly. "Do you remember me?" He looked at me questions plagued his eyes. I could feel my voice get faster and faster as I began talking. "We used to go to church together, back in Las Vegas, I was ten you were eleven. We used to sit next to each other. We barely said two words to each other but we wrote these long notes to each other. You read Les Miserables to me…" I stopped and took a breath. "You left when you started college and I never saw you again."

His face was a deep red. I couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment or anger.

"I never went to a church in Las Vegas," he said quietly.

"But…I know…I remember you…"

"I never went to church, Dr. Smalls." His voice was rising in volume. "My mother and I never went to church…"

"But…she was the one that made you…"

"Dr. Smalls, I didn't know you before this," he said his voice in a monotone. "I have never met you before in my life."

"Yes, you have!" I wanted to cry, I wanted to burst into tears. Why was he denying it? Why wouldn't he say he knew me? I felt one tear slip down my cheek. Oh this is so stupid, I thought.

"Dr. Smalls you have mistaken me with someone else," he said his voice strained.

I swiped away the tear and said, "I am terribly sorry. I suppose I have." I knew I hadn't. I knew it was Spencer, my friend, my inspiration. "See you in a few hours, Dr. Reid." I opened the door and let him out.

When I closed it I felt my back hit the door. I slid down to the bottom and wrapped my arms around my legs. Maybe I had been mistaken. Maybe I had thought it was him and it was not. Maybe it was all a coincidence. Maybe I was so forgettable that I had made no impression on him at all.

But I knew that wasn't it. And knowing that he knew me but wouldn't admit it hurt me even more than him forgetting me entirely. I could feel my tears start anew and my silent sobs rake my body.


	11. Painful Hugs

_A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed and let LONG reviews...with helpful critics and encouragement. Hope you enjoy!_

**Chapter Eleven – Painful Hugs**

_Knock! Knock!_

"Give me a second!" I called to the door as I wiped away the last of my tears.

How long I had sat crying on the floor I don't know. If anyone heard I'm not sure. But right now I was trying my best to look collected. Zipping up my bag I picked it up with both hands and placed it on the floor.

_Knock! Knock!_ It was more persistent this time.

"Just a sec," I yelled through the door.

"Come on, Beth, hurry up!"

It was Morgan. He just had no patience for people, but that was how anyone would describe him. He was about actions not thoughts, at least that was the persona he played. Deep down I wasn't so sure that was the true Morgan. But I guess deep down we are never who people think we are.

The plane was leaving at ten and we had only spent one day in Alabama. But a lot can change in one day. Spencer and I went from somewhat talking to not even acknowledging each other.

Sighing I did one last sweep of the room. I had made the bed and tidied up as best as possible. I was upset and when I got upset I cleaned. I did the best I could under the circumstances…its not my house. I walked into the bathroom quickly and did a quick sweep. I had everything I needed except Spencer. Except his acceptance of the past of what we had had…

I felt my salty tears fall against my lips. _Oh! This is ridiculous!_ I thought as I wiped them from my eyes.

"Coming Morgan!" I called as he knocked again. I heard him murmur something about women. "I heard that!" There was silence from the other side of the door.

I picked up my saddlebag and took a quick look at myself in the mirror. I was disheveled looking. My pink shirt was rumpled and my white shorts were dirty and crinkled. My hair was sticking out at odd places were the curls had stuck unnaturally. But the thing that stuck out the most was my red swollen eyes and the tearstains that ran down my cheeks. I rubbed my eyes and felt my makeup come off as I did so. I looked back in the mirror and the face that stared back was worse than before.

_Oh Well! Morgan was just going to have to deal with it._ I thought as I opened the door.

"Beth are you ok?" Morgan asked taking my suitcase handle. "You look like Hell."

I felt myself blush and look down. "Yeah, I'm fine Morgan. Its just that sometimes hearing someone wear down on your self-esteem finally wears you down." I sighed as I looked back up at him. "I thought I was immune but I guess I'm not."

"No one is ever immune to that, Beth. If you are you're not human."

"Yeah, well sometimes I wish I wasn't human," I could feel the tears rush into my eyes again. I was so embarrassed. I didn't want Morgan to see me vulnerable like this; in fact I didn't want anyone to see me like this.

Suddenly Morgan had wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into a crushing hug. It was warm and comforting. I felt my arms go around his middle as I squeezed harder. But he wasn't the one I wanted hugging me. I wanted someone taller, shyer, smarter, more awkward; unsure about everything…I wanted Spencer to hug me.

"Beth don't listen to that idiot, Finch. He doesn't know what information and bright ideas he is missing out on."

I felt Morgan's hand stroke my hair. I felt myself sob harder. I wish I were crying about that. I wish I was crying about Finch but I was crying about something that hit closer to home. He pulled me away from him to look at me.

"Chin up, kid," he said tapping underneath my chin.

I tried to say ok but it came out as a sob. Morgan pulled me back into a hug and gave me a squeeze.

"Morgan, I was just…"

Morgan pulled me away as I quickly dried my tears. It was Spencer. It took every restraint, on my part, not to run into his arms and cry into his chest. He had obviously just come from his room. He had his saddlebag over one shoulder and suitcase in the other. His hair was rumpled and he looked like he had been uneasy. The look on his face right now though was that of utter shock. He shifted from one foot to the other as Morgan picked up my bag.

"I'm going to go catch the elevator, Morgan. Give me my suitcase," I said reaching for the handle.

"No, Beth I got it," he said reaching for it before me. I started to protest but he ended it with, "Go hold the elevator for us."

As I rounded the corner I assume Spencer thought I was out of earshot because he said, "I hope I wasn't interrupting anything."

"Nope," Morgan said, "Beth, just needed a hug. She's been crying, Reid." There was a pause. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

There was silence I had stopped walking to listen. I didn't care if I looked foolish; I had to know what was going to be said.

"No," Spencer said, "I wouldn't."

There was another long pause. They must have been either staring each other down or searching for words or both.

"Just be careful around her. She's fragile right now…and I don't think it's about the case," Morgan said. "The only time a woman cries like that is over a man." I could tell they were waking towards me now. I moved farther up in the hallway and stood in front of the elevator. "She might have just broken up with someone or someone turned or down or…"

"There's an innumerable amount of reasons why she could be crying like that," Spencer cut in. "Its probably the case. Maybe we should get her off of it and send her home."

"We'll talk to Gideon about it," Morgan whispered as they drew closer. My back was to them. "But I know its something else."

I turned around as they approached. Morgan looked formidable; he was not going to let this lie. Spencer's face was unreadable. His eyes gave him away though because as he looked at me I could see them glistening. And right then I wanted to hug him. No matter how painful it was going to be. No matter how awkward or embarrassing. He needed my hug as much as I needed his.

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I was curled up comfortably on the couch on the plane. I could feel it accelerating and then taking off. I felt like I was going to be sick. I had felt more comfortable with Spencer on the other end of the couch. But a couch is a lonely place when your there by yourself.

Emily had looked at me worriedly as I boarded the plane. I could feel her eyes following me as I collapsed on the couch. Morgan had sat down beside her and whispered something in her ear. I knew it was about what Morgan and Spencer had been talking about earlier.

Gideon was reading a book acting like he was ignoring the world, but I knew he knew what was going on. He was just leaving me alone, which I was thankful about. Gideon let people come to him. He didn't make people talk he just did a lot of listening.

Hotchner was talking to Hailey telling her probably that he was going to be home soon. I knew that he saw my puffy eyes and watery nose but he was too polite to say anything. He sat across from Gideon talking low and fast into his cell phone.

And Spencer was sitting across from me in a chair. If that wasn't bad enough he was reading my latest work. I felt ready to burst into tears at any moment.

I was trying to get some sleep, it was about eleven at night and I had gotten little to no sleep for the past two days. As I lay there I felt a weight sit down at the end of my feet. I opened my eyes as I twisted a little to get a better view. It was Emily.

"Hey, Beth," she said as I moved my feet to give her more room.

"Hey, Emily. Are you ok?"

There was silence as she didn't meet my eyes and I studied her face. She was internally battling with something.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She smiled as she looked at me. "How come you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"You put others before yourself. I know you're not ok and you know I know it." I felt her put her hand on my thigh. "Why do you care how I feel? I should be asking you that."

I gave a small smile. "I don't know. Maybe it's because I'd rather not drag up things about me." She looked me in the eye, searching my face. "I've never really been that personal, honestly. About my feelings, about my friends, and especially about things that make me look weak." I looked away from her gaze it was hurting me too much. "I guess it's a defense mechanism. I've been hurt and rejected to much to really make myself that vulnerable." I could feel tears rise to my eyes.

_And when I do open up it always backfires in my face._ I thought twisting one of my fingers around my curls. _I just can never get anything right._

"Well, I just wanted to say…" She took a breath and said, "Beth, I know you're not ok." I opened my mouth to protest but she cut me off. "Look, I know you're upset about something…and I know it's not about the case." I decided to remain quiet and let her finish. "Do you want to talk about it? I think you should."

"Em, I'm glad you're concerned…but it's something I'm not comfortable talking to anyone about this right now. Not to you, or Morgan, or Gideon, or even Jenny."

I watched her face search mine. "Ok, but if you change your mind…"

She looked over at Reid reading. He hadn't stirred the whole time, but he was spending a little too long on reading each page.

"I will Emily." I felt myself yawn. "But right now I just want to get some sleep."

"Ok."

She patted my thigh and got up off of the couch. I saw her go sit over by Morgan again. They went back to urgent whisperings with glanced over at me, complete with hand gestures. I rolled over so that my face was facing the couch. I thought maybe they would get the hint that I didn't like being talked about that way, but I don't think it worked.

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"Reid," Gideon whispered to him, "what's going on with Beth?"

I lay perfectly still. Gideon's voice had woken me up. It was late probably about one o'clock in the morning. I had thought about going back to sleep but I wanted to hear what he was going to say. I stirred slightly but kept my back facing them. I could feel myself holding my breath.

"What do you mean?"

"Reid," I could hear Spencer fidget a bit under Gideon's stare, "you know perfectly well what I mean."

There was a long pause. It was unbearable. I was trying hard not to fidget myself and it was taking all my restraint not to roll over. I knew if I did I was a goner.

"I want her off the case," Spencer said after awhile.

"Why?"

"Well…" here he paused gathering his thoughts, "…she's not really needed anymore. She did her part, now she can go home."

"I see. Do you think she'll agree to that?"

"I think so."

Gideon paused then said, "You still haven't answered my question: What happened to Beth?"

"The case is getting to her. That's all."

"Does she seem like the type of girl to let this case bother her?"

"No, but I think subconsciously it is. I mean it's got to be affecting her. What else could it be?" Spencer's voice rose in volume as he spoke. He was getting annoyed.

"There are an infinite amount of things that could be bothering her. And I don't think the case is it. Morgan doesn't think it is the case, and Emily doesn't think it's the case. Why do you think it's the case?" Gideon was sounding very reasonable but proding at the same time.

"She was fine up until we got back from Finch…then she wasn't. So hence it must be the case."

"That's a very big time gap. A lot can happen in those few hours."

I heard Spencer's voice lower an octave and in volume. "She remembers Gideon. She remembers everything. Everything about the church, about Las Vegas, about me, about us."

"I know."

"How long have you known?" Spencer sounded like he didn't believe Gideon.

"I wasn't sure the first day she was here. But today…today I knew for certain."

"I remember her. I always remembered her." He paused and gave a small laugh. "I used to dream about her. I even bought her books; they're the only books I've read twice."

"You need to tell her, Reid."

Spencer took a deep breath. "No. I can't bring her into this world. With all this crime and death. I can't see her get lost in this dark place. I have my world and she has her world. They need to stay separate."

"Why?"

He paused. "You aren't seeing what this case is doing to her. It would tare her apart," he whispered quietly and urgently.

There was a long pause as Gideon finally said ", No, Reid. You're not seeing what you're doing to her."


	12. Telling Friends Everything

_A/N: Sorry about the lateness of this chapter...I had no idea what to do...I hate writer's block!!!!!! Keep reiviewing and i'll keep writing!_

**Chapter Twelve – Telling Friends Everything**

"Beth, what happened in Rainsville? You were fine one minute and the next…"

"Nothing happened, Jenny. You're searching for answers that aren't there."

"You can't keep pretending it didn't happen. Everyone knows something did happen…and -besides one of us- we don't think it's the case."

JJ drove furiously as we traveled down Interstate 95 to my apartment. JJ thought it would be best if she took me home and gave me some rest. When she saw me step off of that plane she almost gasped. But I saw her first. She looked worried and scared. Apparently someone had talked to her about me. I was so embarrassed. To break down like that with something that isn't even case related! It gave me stomach pains just thinking about it. I had always promised my self I would never cry over a boy and here I was almost throwing my life away for one. And she knew it. There are few things I can hide from JJ. She knew something was wrong. She knew something went completely askew in Alabama.

"Jen," I paused as I twisted my finger around one of my curls, "what happened there is in the past. In fact it has everything to do with the past. And what happened then does not pertain to now."

"It has everything to do with now! I just don't understand why you won't tell me…"

"I promise I'll tell you sometime. But right now…I just want to keep it to myself."

I paused again as I leaned my head against the window. The humming of the car was so comforting. The way it talked and sputtered but mostly just hummed like a singer warming their voice. If you ever listen to a car's engine it is the most warming sound in the world. It eases the mind and relaxes the body. And right then I really needed that.

I came to conclusion that completely changed everything. "I think I should be off the case."

JJ slammed on her breaks as I almost flew into the windshield. We were in my little parking lot for my apartment. It was unique in the fact that my apartment was on the ground level and the door was open to the little sidewalk curb, just like a townhouse. I liked it that way. It was small but not too small and they even allowed pets. I had been sold the moment I walked into the place.

"You are not leaving this case!" she exclaimed her hands tight on the wheel.

"Jen, I'm not really needed anymore…I mean…"

"Don't give me that crap, Beth! Spence said the same thing! What is wrong with you? You never leave anything unfinished…don't let this get to you!"

"But, Dr. Reid is right. I don't really need to be on the case anymore," I said somewhat quietly, scared of what she would say.

"It has something to do with Spence doesn't it? What happened Beth? What did he say to you…? I swear if he…" She shut her eyes tightly as she tired to steady her emotions.

"Dr. Reid, didn't have anything to do with this…"

Her eyes flashed open. "Yes, he does."

"It's in the past it doesn't matter anymore," I said grabbing my bag and reaching for the door handle.

Grabbing my shoulder JJ said, "Our past defines us, Beth. What ever happened there -or before -that is catching up to you now is very important. You can't just ignore it. It's not going to go away. Please tell me. I'll never mention it again."

I shrugged her hand off of my shoulder. "Give me the paperwork sometime and I'll fill out whatever you need me to." I didn't meet her eyes as I opened the door. "I don't tell friends everything and I don't always finish what I start."

"Elizabeth Claire Smalls!" She grabbed my elbow and dragged me back in. "You are not going to let this case drop! You aren't a quitter!"

I could hear Spencer's words in my head and tears sprang into my eyes. "Yeah, well there are a lot of things that you think I'm not that I actually am…and there are a lot of things that you think I tell you that I don't…"

"Beth, you're not making any sense…" JJ grabbed my shoulders and looked me in the eye. "What aren't you telling me? BETH!"

"I'm not telling you anything! About Dr. Reid and I…and what happened…" I was crying now. Tears were making more tearstains on my already disheveled appearance.

"Please, tell me, Beth! Please!"

So I spilled everything to her right then and there. About Spencer and our previous acquaintance…about what had happened the day before…about why he hadn't admitted it…

"So, Gideon knows…"

"Yeah, he knows…"

JJ paused and took her hands in mine. "You liked him when you were younger didn't you." I bit my lip and finally nodded slowly. "How about now?"

That's something I wasn't completely willing to answer yet. I didn't know. I barely understood him, while he understood me completely. He seemed to know what was best for me; I didn't know what he wanted. He had everything figured out; I barely knew the questions I wanted answered. How could he be controlling a relationship that he wanted no part of? How could he manipulate me so easily? I was frustrated and flustered and annoyed.

So, I told JJ what I thought would make her happy. I never tell my friends everything. Because I feel I loose part of myself when I do so. I loose that part that I had kept close. I loose part of my sanity, part of my mind, and part of my better judgment. Telling friends everything is hard when you don't even understand everything yourself. Telling your friends things that you can't even admit to yourself is even harder, so I told JJ a part lie part truth.

"I don't know."


	13. Talking to Him should be Painful

_A/N: Sorry about the long wait...hope it's been worth it!! Thank you all for giving such inspiring reviews! And keep reviewing...we're trying to break a record of five reviews per chapter...maybe six this time devoted readers?_

**Chapter Thirteen – Talking to Him should be Painful**

"No, Jenny… I will do no such thing."

"But it's another murder! Don't you want to find out what happened?"

"I don't really give a crap right now. I gave you all the information you needed. You're smart and intelligent. You can figure it out," I said shoving some strawberry yogurt into my mouth.

I was expertly balancing a spoon, yogurt, and phone. I had just put the teakettle on and was hoping it would warm up soon. It was Tuesday morning, just one day after I had gotten back. JJ had been calling me on and off for the past day. Sunday night had been a nightmare, Monday had been no better, and now this! I was ready to disconnect my phone.

"But Beth…!"

"No buts!"

"Couldn't you just come and take a look at it and then…"

I took a seat at my kitchen table. Mina, my black cat, jumped up on the table and I gently shoved her off as she gave a disgruntled meow. Jane, my white cat, was sleeping on the chair across from me.

"Does anyone else want me back on the case?"

"Well…um…that hasn't been determined yet…."

"Bye Jennifer."

"…Elizabeth!"

"Talk to you on Saturday."

"…Beth…"

"We'll go out for brunch and head out shopping, that is if you're not busy. OK?"

It was true we would do that. It's what we did every Saturday when we weren't busy. It was a lot easier to get together during the summer when I didn't work, because then I could work around her schedule. The most we saw each other though was during the football season. We always watched the Super Bowl together and sometimes the World Series, when we felt like it.

"No…" she sighed, "but I guess I have to be OK with it."

"Talk to you later, Jenny. Love you."

"Yeah well I don't love you!" I could tell she was pouting from the other end.

"Bye, Jen." I said laughing and hit the off button.

"Mina, off the table," I said again shoving her off the table again. She mewed pitifully. "Do you want some milk Mina Lou?" I asked standing up, leaving the yogurt on the table, and placing the phone back on the hook.

Mina rubbed happily against my legs. "Yah know kitty-cat, you're supposed to be lactose intolerant…and yet all you want day and night is milk."

I opened the fridge and pulled out a half galleon of milk while. Jane meanwhile had perked up too, yawned and lightly jumped down from the chair and was sitting patiently beside Mina who was fidgeting.

"You too Janie Lynn?" She yawned in response. "Both of you are going to get chubby off of this. Soon you're going to get so big I'm not going to pick you up anymore," I said pouring a bit into two dishes on the floor.

They practically pounced on it. Obviously they didn't care.

_Ding! Dong!_

I placed the milk next to the yogurt on the table and went to open the door. I didn't check through the peephole as I normally did. I assumed it was JJ. Sometimes she would call me on her way over here, say she had a lot of work, and show up at my door a few minutes later. I was actually hoping it was she. I really needed her charm and confidence. I was really not so sure about my decision as I had been a few seconds before.

I unlocked the latch and opened it.

"Hey Jen. So glad you could…Oh God!"

My hand immediately went to my hair and face. I had no makeup on, my hair was a rat's nest, and I was in tiny shorts and a large t-shirt. And worst of all I had no bra on. Basically I had just woken up. It was only 10am. No one normal would visit me. Yeah, well I didn't exactly hang out with normal people.

"Dr. Reid!"

He was standing there. The last person I wanted to see. He looked great as usual, though he did look tired. Dark circles plagued underneath his eyes and his hair was somewhat messed up. Sunglasses were perched on his nose and he gave them a nervous shove. He still had his saddlebag, his tie, collared shirt, sweater vest, the only thing he didn't have was his gun.

"I see you weren't expecting me, Dr. Smalls," he said smiling awkwardly on my step.

"I thought Jen was stopping by today and we were probably going to go shopping and eat and go to a movie and…oh, that's not what you meant…"I looked down at myself and suppressed a groan. I finally took a deep breath. "Are you allergic to cats, Dr. Reid."

"No." He said so nonchalantly like it wasn't a weird question.

"Good," I said opening the door all the way for him. "One of my students last semester came over for some extra help and apparently he was highly allergic to cats and…yeah, lets just say that I had to call 911." I closed the door behind him as he stepped into my little foyer. "But on the other hand I met a really hot Paramedic, so I guess it was OK." I wanted to hit my head against my wall. It was the worst thing I could say and I said it. "…So, yeah…now I just ask people."

"It's a very logical reason. Someone was hurt in your care and you felt responsible. You located the problem and adapted accordingly." He took his sunglasses from the bridge of his nose and tucked them in the collar of his shirt.

"Yeah, I guess…" I mused to myself. "Mina is the black one and Jane is the white one."

Jane was still sitting lapping up her milk while Mina had gone on to grooming herself on the couch.

"Stay right here," I said as he sat on the opposite end that Mina was on and placing his bag on the floor. "I'm going to get changed."

He didn't seem to hear me. "Mina…" he said pausing, "…as in Wilhelmina Harker from Bram Stoker's Dracula?"

"Yes," I said ducking into my bedroom, closing the door, and searching for jeans and a bra. "She's such a strong female character for Victorian England. I think she's the only one in the book, besides Van Helsing and Dracula, who doesn't cry. I mean for most of the novel she is giving comfort and strength to men even after she has lost her best friend and the closest thing she had to a father. Stoker really broke ground and boundaries with a character that was a woman such as her."

I quickly ran a brush through my hair. It looked a bit better. I had the same shirt I had slept-in on but I had jeans and a bra on now, which made me feel better. But it was still awkward. I came out and went over to fix my tea because the kettle was now whistling.

"And Jane is for Jane Austen?" he asked reaching out his hand to Mina. She stared at it but eventually rubbed her head gently under his hand.

"No." I said taking out a tea bag labeled Scottish Breakfast. "But you're close. Guess again." I ripped it open and placed it in the scalding cup of hot water.

"Jane from Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre."

"No."

"Jane from Peter Pan by JM Barrie."

"No." I took out some milk and poured it into the cup.

"Jane Bennett from Pride and Prejudice." I could hear Mina purring happily.

"Yes," I said walking into the living room to find Mina loving the attention he was giving her. "My mom used to say I was like Jane. Beautiful, good-tempered, sweet, amiable, humble and selfless, universally well-liked, refuse to judge anyone badly, always making excuses for people…"

"That makes you sound like a static character," Spencer said as I sat beside him. "A one dimensional girl who is the classification of virtue."

"Are you saying I'm more complicated than that, Dr. Reid?"

"Very much so. Every person is complicated. Where there is good there had to be bad." Mina climbed up on his lap.

"Do you think where there is bad there has to be good?"

He paused and than said something I had never heard him say before.

"I don't know." I took a small sip of my tea as he continued. "I've seen so much. I think I've seen every kind of evil, every kind of pain, and every kind of hurt. People kill for no reason other than that's just the way they are. People torture and maim and murder and attack in every way possible. And sometimes I'm just not sure if there is any good in this world."

"You don't think that somewhere deep down every killer and torturer may be good somewhere? Down underneath the hate and the pain and the rage…that they might be good people." I placed my teacup on the coffee table.

"It's just my job is so sinister and evil that sometimes I find it hard to believe if there is any good left in the world. In America 10 people are murdered everyday. 23,400 people last year were arrested for murder. Someone is murdered every 23 seconds. A violent crime takes place every 17 seconds. An aggravated assault happens every 28 seconds. And on top of it a police officer is killed in the line of duty every 63 hours." He had been talking very fast and now he stopped. "How do I know it's not going to be me, Dr. Smalls?" He stopped petting Mina and she jumped unhappily off his lap as he ran his fingers through his hair. "How do I know its not going to be me?"

"Faith." I put my hand on his shoulder and gave a small squeeze. "Faith in your team, in you gun, in your car, in you bullet proof vest…but most importantly faith in yourself."

We sat there for a moment or two. My hand on his shoulder and his head in his hands. And yet I wanted more. I still wanted more from a man that had denied me. From a man who wanted me off of this case. How could I still want him this badly? Logic told me I was crazy. Common sense told me to get a grip on myself. But my heart was a fickle thing and would not be budged.

I stood up suddenly as I realized something. "Dr. Reid I didn't offer you a cup of tea or coffee. Would you like one?"

"Ummm…. just water, please."

He stood up with me and followed me into the kitchen. I grabbed a glass out of the cabinet. Well I tried. I don't have much glassware in the house. It's only the cats and myself. The only glasses left were on the top shelf. I was jumping to get a breakable glassware item. One thing I hate about being short, I can never reach anything. Spencer kindly reached up and grabbed the glass for me.

"Ice?" I asked opening the fridge door.

"No, no ice. I don't like ice in my drinks," he said as I closed the door and turned on the faucet.

"Even in water?"

"Especially in water."

"Dr. Reid," I said feeling the water to see if it was cold, "I think you should explain why you're here." I filled up the glass. "Did Jen put you up to this?"

Taking the glass from me he said, "No, she did not. I came here on my own accord." He took a few big gulps of water. "I wanted to persuade you back on the case."

"Excuse me?" I said and seeing my yogurt still undone I grabbed it off of the table and preceded to finish it. "I thought you were the one who wanted me off the case?"

"Well…yes but…"

"Dr. Reid you can not just go around changing your mind like that!" I angrily pointed my spoon at him. "You either want me off the case or not. And even what you say is true I am not goin back on the case!"

"But everyone wants you back…"

"Jenny told me she wasn't sure that anyone else wanted me back!"

"Well, she was going to tell you that so then I could come over here and…"

"So she did put you up to this!" I exclaimed forcefully shoving some yogurt into my mouth.

He hastily took a gulp of water. "The crime scene is in Downtown Washington. We'd be back here in no time and JJ and I would stop pestering you and…"

"Dr. Reid…"

"Think about it Dr. Smalls," he said placing his glass on the counter. "If you don't see this through JJ might get fired." He paused and drew a quick breath. "I told you this earlier if you…"

"Don't give me that BS, Dr. Reid. There is no conspiracy against Jen. I talked to Gideon he said there was nothing of that sort."

It was a lie but a well-constructed lie. I had never talked to Gideon but Spencer had lied earlier and that story had never really sat well with me.

"You talked to Gideon?" he asked sounding somewhat scared. "And he told you?"

"Yes. Dr. Reid you are sending the most conflicting messages ever created." I said throwing out the yogurt carton and tossing the spoon into the sink. "First, you allow me to come onto the case and solve the phrases when you should have figured out by yourself. Then you lie to me about Jen. Then you tell Gideon that you want me off the case. Yes, he told me what you said," I exclaimed seeing the look on his face. "Then you don't talk to me. And now you want me back on the case?" I threw my arms up in the air. "You're all geniuses! You don't need me! Nobody on this squad needs me! They have Gideon and Garcia! They have you for goodness sakes!"

What he said next was so quiet that I almost missed it. He looked down, as his eyes grew dark. "I need you."

I couldn't say no. He was everything to me. He had always been everything to me and he always will be. There was no stopping this, no ending it. I had to give in. I would have followed him to the ends of the earth and hell and heaven just to come back here with him. I was going to risk everything I was for him.

Talking should have been awkward and painful for us. It shouldn't have been this easy to argue, to bicker, to talk about books, and pain, and love. But it was and it shouldn't have been. And somehow that compelled me even more to want to do what he said I should. It gave me hope that maybe there was something beneath the surface for us. An old trace of friendship that still hungered for more. I hoped it still lingered beneath the surface waiting for something to bring it to light.

"Let me go get changed. And then will leave."


	14. Learning from our Shortcuts

_A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks for the great reviews! But...um...next time when I ask for six I mean six...not four! Anyway keep up the great feedback!_

**Chapter Fourteen – Learning from our Shortcuts**

"I can't believe you, and Jen, cooked this up Dr. Reid," I said closing the car door with a bang. "Am I really that necessary to the case anymore?" I buckled myself firmly into the seat.

"For the last time, Dr. Smalls," Spencer said turning the key in the ignition, "you are very important to this case." He checked his mirrors; left then right then rear view. "You're still our consultant for the phrases written on the walls. Since there is a phrase written on the wall at the murder scene, you expertise is needed."

"Now you're just trying to make me feel better," I said feigning anger.

"No, I'm not," he said twisting his head behind him to back out of the parking space. "Dr. Smalls, I don't lie very well. If I was trying to make you feel better you'd know it."

I looked over at him and smiled slightly. "Yeah, you're probably right."

I had put on a pair of black pants with a purple button-down shirt that had a white undershirt. I had pulled my hair back after it had mercilessly refused to curl nicely and straightening would take too long. I had also put on sensible black flats for shoes. This had taken a total of ten minutes, which is a record for me.

And while I was getting changed Spencer had been sitting on my couch relating to me the most obscure cat facts. They included: Did you know scientists don't know how cats purr? Or that all calico cats are female. Or that if you find an orange and white-stripped cat that's a female that it is extremely rare. How about, that if a white cat has blue eyes it will go blind.

I learned more about cats in those ten minutes than I have learned in my entire lifetime. I wish I could say that him talking about cats incessantly annoyed me, but the truth was that I enjoyed it. I really liked hearing him talk about something so easily and eagerly. I wish I had that type of talent but I don't. Everything I say is awkward and oddly stated.

So now we were sitting in his vintage Volvo cruising along to Washington DC. Spencer had taken a shortcut I had never seen before and I was a little apprehensive. I wasn't scared about being in a car with Spencer I was just afraid of getting lost, terribly, and hopelessly lost.

"Ummm…Dr. Reid," I said pointing to the left, "shouldn't you have turned there?"

"Yes, but only if we wanted to get stuck in traffic," he said not even glancing at me.

"It's ten o'clock in the morning!" I exclaimed twisting back around to look behind us at the road. We had missed the highway. "There is no traffic at ten in the morning!"

"It's 10:21," he said correcting me.

"Close enough," I said crossing my arms in a huff. "It's going to take an half an hour longer this way."

"Only twenty-nine minutes."

"Like I said 'Close enough'." This was ridiculous I needed to know where we were going. I decided I was going to improvise. I opened up his glove compartment and searched for a map. He had none. "You don't have a map?"

"No," he pointed to his temple, "it's all up here."

"Oh Gosh…." I murmured shutting the glove compartment.

"You don't really think I'd let us get lost, Dr. Smalls, do you?" He was trying to sound hurt, but it wasn't working. He was such a bad liar.

"I would just like to know where we are going, that's all," I said placing my elbow on the side of the car and putting my head on my fist.

"You don't like not being in control, do you, Dr. Smalls?" Spencer asked as he turned down a side road.

"Yeah, well, when I'm in the car with a strange man I would like to know where we are going," I said looking over and smiling.

"Am I really that strange?"

He was trying to look angry but it wasn't working. Though his face looked quite hurt and angry, his eyes were smiling contently. They were the windows to his emotions. He could never hide anything as long as his eyes remained open. They were brown and warm and welcoming. The innocence that those eyes held was my hope that maybe I could find the young boy that still haunted my dreams. The boy that I had never really fallen out of love with.

I gave a small smile. "Yes."

He looked me up and down. "Well, I'm nervous about being in the car with you. You're awfully strange."

I sat up straight and put on a fake tone of outrage. "I am not!"

"Well, let's see…" he said beginning to count off on his fingers. "You have your PhD and you're only twenty-three. You are obsessed with European literature. You are also obsessed with classical music." He paused and gave a small smile. "And you seem to like hanging out with strange people."

"Oh gosh," I gasped, "I am strange!"

"Strangeness has a habit of rubbing off of people. So you're only going to get stranger."

"My life has come to this!" I shook throwing my hands up in the air. I paused and brought my hands back down. "And yet somehow I am strangely happy at this turn of events…" I said musing to myself.

He smiled slowly and happily he turned on the radio. He found a station that played classical music.

"The Clavierübung III of 1739, which is organ music that was composed by Johann Sebastian Bach. It's considered one of his greatest arrangements," he said turning it up a bit.

I smiled and laid my head against the window. The glass was cool and welcoming compared to the hot air inside the car. We listened to it quietly for a little while. I was content listening to it. He then made a face. I caught it out of the corner of my eye.

"What?" I asked half-concerned.

"One of the flutes is a little flat."

"Excuse me!?!"

He repeated what he had said. "One of the flutes is flat."

"Oh my gosh!" I exclaimed sitting up hastily. "You have perfect pitch!"

He remained silent.

"Did you know you had perfect pitch?" He was looking at me oddly. "You don't know what perfect pitch is? Okay, so it's when you can pick out an instrument from a group of others and pick out the note that it's playing."

"You're saying I can do that?" he asked turning down the volume.

"I can't pick out one single flute let alone say whether it is flat or sharp or…whatever…"

"It doesn't mean I have perfect pitch," he said defensively.

"Match the pitch of that single flute," I said excitedly.

"What?"

"Match the pitch of the flute," I commanded pointing at the car's radio.

He pursed his lips on an 'Ooo' on a clear crisp note. It wasn't flat or sharp but perfect and hearing it against the flute I could tell the flute was off. I angrily hit the off button to the radio and crossed my arms.

"I hate you," I said in a huff. "You're too perfect!"

He shrugged his shoulders and gave a happy smile. "What can I say? I'm just the amazing Dr. Reid!"

"You know what?" I said grabbing his bag and pulling out his cell phone. "I'm calling Jenny! At least she's not perfect! She's normal like me."

"Why don't you use your own cell phone?" he asked glancing over at me as we sped down the highway.

"I'm a poor broke college student," I said punching in JJ's cell phone number. "I can barely afford to feed myself, my cats, and keep my apartment. I don't even have cable." I paused as I hit talk. "Maybe I should get a roommate then I could afford luxuries such as a cell phone or cable…or even some nice shoes." I lifted up my feet and said, "I always need more shoes."

"I don't understand women's fascination with shoes," Spencer said glancing over briefly at my black flats.

"Do you understand anything about women, Dr. Reid?"

He held silent. I had touched a nerve. I couldn't take it back. I had meant it as a joke but I knew he was remembering some past event or pain. Maybe he was thinking about me. Maybe he was thinking about someone else who had broken his heart. I opened my mouth to apologize…

"Hey, Spence! Did you convince Beth to come?" JJ's perky voice rang in my ear. Could there be any worse timing?

I sighed we were going to have to come back to this conversation.

"Jennifer I cannot believe you! You sent Dr. Reid down here to convince me to come work on a case that I don't need to do!"

I could almost see her jumping up and down. "You're coming! Hold on!" Her voice grew a bit distant. "Morgan she's coming!" There was a pause. "I know! This is going to be so great! I can't believe it worked…"

"JEN!" I screamed into the phone bringing her back to our talk.

"He talked you into it, didn't he?" she asked sounding quite pleased with herself.

"So what if he did? You still had a part in it! You told him to come down here and…"

"How dare he lie to you like that I did no such thing! He wanted to go down! I tried to talk him out of it," JJ said and I could hear the shock in her voice.

"That's not what he told me, Jen. He said you talked him into coming down to my apartment…"

"Ugh! Well, Spence is clearly lying to you! He told me to talk to you to try and persuade you to come back on the case," she said sounding quite exasperated. "I was going to let you be…but he wanted you back on the case…"

"Ok hold up Jen," I said cutting her off. "I'm not sure who to believe at this point. You lied to me earlier and Dr. Reid did as well…but on the other hand he isn't very good at lying…but would you lie to me because of what I told you earlier…" I paused slightly and turned to Spencer. "Dr. Reid, care to explain yourself?"

"Explain what?" he said innocently not looking at me.

"What Jenny just told me…about you influencing her to try and get me back on the case…and that it might have been really your idea to come down and talk to me. This whole ploy might have been yours?"

I punched in him the arm, hard. He didn't even flinch. I wanted to see him flinch and all he did was sit there, eyes glued to the road.

"Are you playing me, Dr. Reid?" He didn't glance at me. His eyes were still on the roadway. "Am I being played?"

He took a deep breath and I saw his hands grip the steering wheel tightly. "Okay, yes I admit it…but I knew if I came down and tried to convince you to come back you would just slam the door in my face."

"I wouldn't have," I said quite angry at his remark. He glanced over at me. "Well, okay maybe I would have…

"I talked to JJ and she was certain you wouldn't be too receptive to my presence at your apartment. She also wasn't to keen to lure you back on to the case. She said that once you were through with something you rarely picked it back up again…but everyone wanted you back…"

"That's not what Jen said…Jennifer…"

She sheepishly replied, "Okay, so I lied about that but I was warming you up for Spence. It was for your own good!"

I groaned. "I feel like a chess player who didn't even know they were playing a game of chess. I don't even play well when I know I'm playing!"

JJ was laughing. I could tell she was quite pleased with herself. She had outwitted the bright English student but as I would later tell her it wasn't fair. She had double-teamed with Spencer. The master at chess, well maybe except for Gideon.

"So, now where here discussing the strategy of how we got you back on the case," Spencer said cutting off my train of thought.

"Yeah, well I hate both of you!" I exclaimed quite angry. But I was also strangely happy.

Spencer had wanted me back. He had talked JJ into trying to talk to me, not the other way around. Though he had pushed me away earlier now he was drawing me towards him. What had changed his view towards me so suddenly? What had caused him to accept me I his world? Maybe his talk with Gideon had done him some good? Maybe JJ had told him what I said and talked some sense into him? Maybe it was Emily, or Morgan, or even Garcia? But somehow I don't think it was any of those things. I think it was something else entirely. Something I don't think even he could describe at the time. Maybe he knew it was the right thing to do. Maybe he thought I was absolutely necessary to the case. But honestly I think he just wanted me there. He needed me.


	15. The Smell of Death

_A/N: I want five reviews...PLEASE!! And I hope you guys enjoy more Spencer-centric-ness!!_

**Chapter Fifteen – The Smell of Death**

We pulled up to a very nice apartment building. It was almost out of DC and suburbia was just across the bridge Spencer and I had just crossed. People were swarming around the apartment like flies to a decomposing corpse. Police had drawn caution tape around the whole area. Innocent bystanders were gathered, scared and fearful. News vans with camera crews were clumped together in one area. It was like hell on earth to me. I had never seen anything so chaotic in my entire life.

As I started to unbuckle out of my seat Spencer grabbed my elbow. The look in his eyes told me everything.

"Dr. Reid, I'm fine," I said trying to shake off his grip. "And I will be fine." He still held my elbow. "Come on," I said exasperated. "Stop wasting time."

I didn't meet his gaze as we climbed out of the car. I was afraid I might make him drive me back home if I did. As I slammed the car door I heard someone call my name. I turned sharply startled and saw JJ walking towards me. I gave a small wave hoping she would return it but she looked grim.

"Hey Beth," she said giving me a small hug. "Hey Spence." She took me by the shoulders. "I'm so glad you decided to come, Beth. Everyone really missed you…even Hotch…" She smiled and placed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, well next time you _miss_ me that much be nice about it. No more sneaking around behind my back and tricking me into coming here." I turned to Spencer. "Just ask."

"Next time I will, Dr. Smalls."

I cringed and said, "For the last time it's _Beth_." I sighed. "Morgan has no problems with it. Gideon can say it. Heck, even Hotchner calls me Beth." I pointed at him. "Why can't you?"

He just shrugged and remained silent. But I saw his eyes flick to JJ for one brief second. Something was going on and I didn't like it.

"Jen," I said turning to face her, "why are you here? You're not normally here at the crime scenes…"

Her eyes flicked back to Spencer then to me. "There's…. something … um … unusual about this crime … from the others." She stopped and it seemed like she wouldn't continue.

"Care to elaborate?" I asked as I crossed my arms.

I was thinking maybe there was a different message written on the walls in blood. Maybe the victim was a male. Maybe they had actually caught the guy. Right now I didn't know what to expect.

JJ bit her lip. I didn't like this. She wasn't normally like this at all. Where was her confident self? What was so devastating that she was afraid to tell me?

"Spit it out, Jenny," I said hoping the fear wouldn't show in my voice.

"Well, there's more than one victim."

I could feel the world begin to spin as she said the words. My calm demeanor was falling to the ground. I could feel it slipping silently. I just couldn't get enough air into my lungs. I shouldn't be this weak. I shouldn't be this vulnerable, but I am. I closed my eyes and tried to steady my heartbeat.

"How many?" I asked steadying myself by placing my hand on the hood of Spencer's car. I opened my eyes and almost shouted, "Jen, how many?"

"Six…six…victims…"

"What?"

"A…mom and her five girls were murdered…they were all under the age of eleven…"

"Oh gosh…I don't know if I can go up there…I mean…"

I gagged. I didn't know if I could handle six dead bodies. No, I could handle dead bodies, just not children's bodies. I couldn't handle little still forms under white sheets and in black body bags that should be running and playing. I didn't want to see the phrase written in their blood, in children's blood, on the wall.

Before I knew it I saw my whole breakfast on the ground before me. The acidic taste in my mouth brought me back to my senses. JJ was holding my shoulders and gently pushing my pony-tailed hair out of the way. I could feel my cheeks flush red with embarrassment and anger.

"Better to throw up now than later," JJ said handing me a napkin from Spencer's car.

Wiping my mouth I said, "Somehow that doesn't make me feel better."

"I threw up at my first crime scene." Spencer awkwardly jumped into the conversation.

"Liar," I said and surveying his car I added, "I didn't get any on your Volvo, did I?"

"Nope."

"Well, I feel really great now. I thought I had a stronger stomach than this."

I hesitantly looked around. No one else had seen me vomit. No one was even paying me any attention. Spencer had parked far enough away from the crowds so no one would notice something like this. I had a feeling he had planned on this happening. I'm glad he did.

JJ grabbed my bag and said, "Beth, you almost threw up when I cut my hand. And you didn't expect to feel the affects of this?" She was trying to lighten the event and it somewhat worked. "Here have a tictac," she said pulling one out of my saddlebag's front pocket. She handed one to me before popping one herself. "Do you want one, Spence?" She asked holding the case out to him. He shook his head no and she replaced it in my bag.

"Give me that, Jen," I said grabbing the bag strap. She hastily complied. "Come on. Let's go."

I walked towards the taped off area. I could feel JJ's and Spencer's eyes following me. They were worried about me. I knew that JJ was afraid for me. I had seen crime scenes on TV, in the movies, I had even written about them. But I had never been to one. I knew she didn't think I could handle it. No, she new I couldn't handle it. The vomit on the ground proved that.

I don't know what Spencer was thinking. But I knew he wasn't going to share it with me.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey Hotch," I said stepping under the yellow caution tape and into the apartment.

He jut nodded solemnly.

"Nice to see you again, Beth," Gideon called from a different room. As he walked from the small kitchen to the open living room he said, "Thanks for bringing her back, Reid."

Spencer just quietly nodded but I could see his eyes flicker to me.

Looking around I asked, "Where's Morgan and Emily?"

"They're following up on your lead and going to the nineteen churches in the area that are associated with Finch," Gideon said towards me.

He handed me a pair of latex gloves. I hastily put them on. He handed another pair to Spencer.

"Did the press coverage yield anything?" I asked to no one in particular as I followed Gideon.

"Still nothing," Hotchner said. "We were trying to flush him out it didn't work. He just retaliated."

"Just like any teenage boy would," I murmured to myself. "He's sending us a message."

But Spencer must have heard because he slowly nodded as we walked down the corridor towards the bedroom. The smell emanating from the room was sickening. It was like nothing I had ever smelled before, only imagined. The smell of a decomposing corpse as it lay in the sun. The smell of rotten eggs, sour milk, skunk, and garbage all rolled into one. But even those smells don't adequately describe the burning sensation of my nose. Or the gasping for air. Or the sound of larva crunching away at flesh or the buzz of flies. There is no way I can accurately describe the horror I walked into. No way I can write to make you understand. It was my personal Hell.

And now I could see why Spencer didn't want me involved. I could see why he wanted me untainted by this darkness, why he wanted me pure and white. He needed me to take him away from the horrors he saw everyday. I needed to be his savior from his own personal Hell. And now I wasn't sure I could be that for him anymore.

I was very glad I had vomited earlier, I knew my empty stomach could take the smell…well, I hoped. I could see the CSU people standing outside the door of the bedroom. One looked like he was fighting not to cover his nose with his sleeve.

The room looked like it was the master bedroom. A large bed and matching furniture and its size led me to this conclusion. It would have been a very nice room except for the bodies that lay on the bed.

It was a mother in her late thirties and her five daughters around her. The youngest was just two years old and the eldest was eleven. They had on matching sundresses, their hair pulled back into ponytails, long-sleeved undershirts, and no shoes. Their eyes were closed, thank God. I don't know if I could have handled looking at blank eyes. Eyes that should be full of life, dead.

Above the headboard was written: "The birth of one daughter is a loss. The birth of many is a tragedy – 233."

"The mom is Janet Mitchell," Hotchner said pointing to her. "Emma – 11, Gina – 9, Claire – 6, Rachel – 5, and Hannah – 2." He pointed to each girl as he said her name. "The husband, Dr. Hank Mitchell, found them. He normally worked the night shift at the ER so he could watch the girls while Janet worked at the hospital as a physical therapist."

The girls were arrayed around their mother. They looked like they might be sleeping. That they might open their eyes at any moment and smile. But their faces lay pale and unmoving. Someone who believed he was doing the right thing by cutting their little lives short. By killing them to end what he thought was wrong.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to burst into tears. But then that subsided and I felt absolute hate. I wanted to find Ewell. I wanted to find him and kill him. To make him pay. To make him feel all the pain he had caused his victims and their families. If my fire to find Ewell had been burning before it was now a wildfire consuming everything.

"The phrase is from Finch's book on pg 233. It's the section on marriage and children," Reid said going over and lightly touching the wall where the writing was.

"Whose blood was it written in?" I asked not moving for fear of fainting.

"All of theirs," Gideon said. "He collected all the blood and wrote each word in a different one."

"Please tell me the girls didn't see their mother die. Please tell me it was painless," I said lightly touching the face of the youngest girl.

"There's evidence that the girls were smothered in their sleep. Then they had their blood drained and collected," Gideon said pointing to the many containers of blood on the dresser.

"Does anyone know how he gained entrance into the house?" I asked going over and picking up a container.

"Mr. Mitchell said that his wife called for a repair man for the thermostat from the apartment building manager. He said he wanted to be here when he came but his wife insisted because it was hot," Hotchner said. "The repair man was supposed to come around 9:00pm. The girls were already in bed by 8:30."

"Meaning they were killed somewhere between 9pm and 11pm," Spencer said. He had apparently been talking to the coroner. "Janet's cause of death was slitting of the wrists and throat; exsanguination."

Placing the container down I walked out of the room. I just couldn't take the smell anymore or the faces. The whole situation was making me queasy. I went down the hallway into the younger girls bedroom. There were two beds for younger children. Stuffed animals and children's toys were scattered around the room. The colors were a soft pink and a cream yellow. It was the perfect small girl's room.

I picked up a purple stuffed kitten from the bed. The girls' nightgowns were folded neatly across the bed. He had apparently stripped the girls after they were dead and put them in the different clothes.

"I used to have a room like this," I said placing the kitten back down. I didn't know anyone was there.

"Every little girl's room looks like this," Spencer said coming to stand behind me.

I turned around to face him. "Which is why this one is so hard to swallow. It could have been me when I was little. This could have been my Mother and me."

"But it wasn't," Spencer said. "You're here solving this case not in a grave back in Las Vegas."

"Which is why these victims means so much more to me than the other victims," I said sitting down on one of the beds.

"I think it's because you actually visited the crime scene instead of just seeing pictures," Spencer said. He looked like he was debating whether or not to sit down next to me. "The smell and the sound and the whole atmosphere really gets to you sometimes."

"Yeah…." I said standing up. "…Maybe…"


	16. Family of a Monster

_A/N: YAY!! A new chapter! i'm soooo sorry about the long three month wait! but this literally took me three months to write, i have just had so much on my plate! i hope it was well worth it devoted readers and leave me some reviews to let me know!_

**Chapter Sixteen – Family of a Monster**

"Dr. Smalls are you sure you're ok?" Spencer asked turning the ignition in his car.

"Dr. Reid I feel just fine. Besides I'm not going to vomit when meeting Ewell's parents," I said securely buckling myself into the seat. "And it's Beth."

He said nothing but just backed out of the parking lot.

Gideon had decided that I would do better not visiting any more crime scenes and for that I was grateful. Crime scenes with blood and dead bodies, and most importantly the smell, are not something I ever want to deal with again. Gideon had tactfully suggested that Spencer and I go talk to Ewell's family. I think Hotch was very happy to get rid of me. JJ was lying when she said he missed me.

Spencer and I were now sitting in his Volvo backing out away from the crime scene. Reporters all the way out of the apartment had harassed us and Spencer looked terribly intimidated. I just didn't give them the time of day.

And now we were leaving a place I hoped to never experience again in my life. I never wanted to go to a crime scene again. I didn't think JJ was going to let me consult anymore. I had no problems with that. And I was just as glad to leave the crime scene, as the rest of the team was to see me go.

* * *

"Dr. Smalls-"

"It's Beth," I mumbled knowing he wouldn't listen anyway.

"-Do you ever worry about JJ?"

I glanced over at him. We were about ten minutes from our destination. His hands were tight on the steering wheel. And he looked a little wary about asking the question. I was trying to figure out why he might ask such a question. He talked to her almost everyday. Wouldn't he know? Why couldn't he ask her?

"Not really." I said sounding nonchalant. "She doesn't really need to have anyone to look after her…she's Jen. And if she ever needs something she comes to me." I paused and took a deep breath. "Why?"

"I just thought she would have a significant other, that's all." He was not sounding casual at all.

I could feel my breath catch in my throat. My worst fear had been realized. He liked JJ, my best friend. Couldn't he see that I liked him? Couldn't he just admit that he remembered me from way back when? Was it that hard? Didn't he want to remember me?

"Dr. Reid, Jen would rather be friends with guys than date them. I think I know more men in Virginia than girls because basically all her friends are guys." I closed my eyes as if I could shut out what I was hearing. "Honestly, I'm surprised she hasn't tried to set me up with one of them yet."

I was hoping that would be the end of it. But somehow I knew it wouldn't be.

"So you aren't attached either, Dr. Smalls?"

I could feel my heart begin to race as my stomach turned over. I looked over at Spencer; he was keeping his gazed fixed the road ahead.

Was this the heart of the matter? Did he want to know if I was attached? If so why hadn't he just come out and asked? Why was he trying to be tactful?

I could feel my face flush with the thoughts that were racing through my mind.

I gave a small laugh to cover my true feelings. "Dr. Reid when would I have time for a boyfriend? I'm still in school, I'm running a class for William and Mary, I'm still trying to write, and now Jen wants me to consult for you. No man would be able to handle that. He would be bottom on the list of my priorities…as I'm sure any girl would be for you."

Silence.

He said nothing. He did nothing to comment on my statement. He did nothing to refute it. He just left it open and unanswered.

I could feel him mentally pulling back from me. He was blocking me off. All the progress I had made had just been backtracked. It was like we hadn't been through anything the past couple of days. It was like I had never met him.

This made no sense.

Earlier that day he had wanted me. He had wanted me to come help him. Now he was thrusting me aside. He didn't want me now. Did he not want me to become tainted by his job? How could he have changed his mind so suddenly? Was it because he had seen me in those girls's room? Was it because I had thrown up?

I didn't know but I needed to know if I was going to overcome this obstacle. I didn't know how his thoughts were going to control him. Or how this logic was playing out in his mind.

He thought by pushing me away he was going to save me. In fact it was quite the opposite. If only he had known that then maybe some things that happened never would have. Maybe some pain and suffering could have been spared.

If only he had known how much I wasn't going to let him slip away.

* * *

_Tap. Tap._

Spencer and I stood staring at the closed door. He had hesitantly reached up and 'tapped' on the door. We stood there motionless for a few seconds. His body was tense. I had a feeling it was because he was trying to push me away.

The door still remained closed to the quaint townhouse.

"Maybe they're not home," I said peering in through one of the side windows.

"No, there home. The lights are on in three rooms and the garage door is open," Spencer replied not looking at me.

I sighed. "Well, maybe they didn't hear your tapping." I rang the doorbell, which Spencer had apparently failed to notice in all his observations.

There was a slight pause before the door opened. A man in his late forties stood there, I assumed he was Mr. Ewell. His face was slightly pale and he had gray growing at his temples. His shirt was rumpled and his hair disheveled; he looked like he hadn't gotten much sleep. But even through his age and his unkempt appearance he looked exactly like his son.

Mr. Ewell slowly looked Spencer up and down, and then noticed the gun at his hip with his badge attached to it.

"You're here about Jacoby, aren't you?"

I nodded slowly unsure of his response to us.

"I knew you would eventually come around to me," he said. He sounded almost sad or like there was no hope left. "Come in." He opened the door wide enough to let both of us to cross the threshold.

* * *

"I was surprised it took you this long to get here," Mr. Ewell said sitting down on the couch.

Spencer took the loveseat and sat in the middle of it. He didn't know what common courtesy was, apparently. There was no room for me to sit next to him. I chose to walk around the room and look at pictures and books that littered the house.

"If you suspected your son you should have called the police, Mr. Ewell," Spencer said and I glanced away from a picture of a mom, dad, and smiling child at the beach to give him a glare.

"And what would I have said. I believe my son is killing all those people but I don't know where he is or why," Mr. Ewell said sounding quite distressed as he ran his fingers through his hair.

I glanced to Spencer and he met my eyes. Two of our questions had just been answered.

"We just have a couple of questions for you Mr. Ewell," I said coming to sit by him on the couch.

"It's just going to be the routine questions and I am going to give the routine answers," Mr. Ewell said sounding somewhat agitated. "Do you know where he is? No. Do you have any way of contacting him? No. Was he like this as a child? Yes and No. If he contacts you will you give us a call? Yes, but he never does." He looked back and forth between Spencer and I. "Anything else?"

"Uh, yes, just a couple more things," Spencer said quite frazzled over these turn of events. He frantically looked to me. I tried to hold back my sigh.

"Mr. Ewell, how did your son get sent down to Alabama to live with Reverend Finch? You and Finch's ideas don't really seem to be coherent ideas." I said politely as possible.

"The rehab center that his parole officer put him into The Followers of Christ Rehab Facility which is attached to the Baptist Church of Virginia about twenty miles outside of DC. The Reverend is one of the major financial backers to the rehab facility. We weren't allowed to have any contact with him for at least one year but we got regular updates from Bill, his parole officer. Followers of Christ then sent him down to Finch as he was put up as their worst case. Then we lost track of him." Mr. Ewell said getting up and walking over to the kitchen counter which was behind us. "Here's their card maybe they can give you some information," he said handing me a business card. "And here's Bill's number he might be able to help you." He gave me a piece of lined scrapbook paper with a number on it.

"Mr. Ewell I was wondering if you could tell us if anything might have happened about a year and a half ago that would have really upset your son. Something that would have completely changed his way of thinking," Spencer said talking very fast and very loud.

Mr. Ewell snapped his head up startled by this question. "My wife and I got divorced last year. She took our other son Dustin with her. He's only four." I could see tears well up in his eyes. "I haven't seen him since. She has complete custody…I sometimes talk to him on the phone…but…"

"Is there anyway that your son could have found out about this?" Spencer asked very excited. I could see the wheels turning in his head. Something was forming in that head of his and I was slowly catching on.

"Well, his mother and I told Bill, naturally, and he has some contact with him. So I suppose he could have told him but I don't see why that's important." Mr. Ewell said standing abruptly as Spencer jumped out of his seat.

I looked to Spencer questioningly. Where was he going with this? What was he thinking? Why was this suddenly so important?

"Mr. Ewell where is your wife living now?" he asked his voice full of concern.

"…Um…ah…somewhere in Maryland…I have to go look up the address…" He quickly rushed to the kitchen and pulled out his address book and flipped wildly through its pages.

Spencer tossed me his cell phone. "Get Hotch on the phone, now."

I began to wildly search through his address list then finally found the name. I fumbled to press the call button.

"Mr. Ewell when was the last time you talked to your son?" Spencer asked.

I had the phone up to my ear as it rang.

"…A few months ago around Dustin's birthday. Why?" I could feel the tension in his voice as he handed the address book to Spencer.

"Hotch."

I handed the phone to Spencer. He quickly took the phone away from me. "Hotch this is Reid. You need to get over to 713 Apple Blossom Rd in Cheverly, Maryland. Send a patrol car over their NOW!" Spencer hung up, handed it back to me, and started to head towards the door.

"What's………what's going on?" Mr. Ewell said following him. "Is something wrong with Dustin? Is everything ok?"

"We'll call you as soon as you know anything," Spencer said walking out leaving me and Mr. Ewell standing in his threshold.

Mr. Ewell turned to me. "I am terribly sorry, sir." I quickly handed him my business card. "Call me in two days if we don't call you back. I really am sorry."

I quickly opened the door and ran to the car.

"Dr. Reid what is going on?" I asked as I tried to give his phone back to him. "Why did you just leave Mr. Ewell like that? What is so important?"

"We have to get to Cheverly right away," he said not answering any of my questions.

I could feel the bottom of my stomach dropped as he pulled out of the driveway. I could see all of the pieces fitting together slowly in my mind. I knew what we were going to find before we even arrived.


	17. Breaking and Entering

_A/N: Yay new chapter! maybe 5 reviews...please be kind I will try to post another one as soon as possible. Thank you all for being so kind and generous and faithful!_

**Chapter Seventeen – Breaking and Entering**

"Dr. Smalls, stay in the car," Dr. Reid said pulling his Volvo over to the side of road across the street from Martha Ewell's house.

We had just driven 45 minutes from Jacob Ewell's house. By that time I had figured out what to expect when we arrived and I was again feeling nauseous. I knew what to anticipate when I opened the door. I knew what horrors would await me inside the locked door of Martha's house. I didn't want to see another dead child…I didn't want to see another dead woman.

No one else was there. It was a deserted suburban street. I wanted to wait for Gideon and Hotch to arrive. I wanted to wait for the rest of the team. Spencer was having none of it

But I was not going to stay in the car. I wasn't going to be Spencer's delicate little flower.

"It's Beth," I said angrily shoving his phone at him. I still had it in my possession from Ewell's house. Spencer had been so intent on driving here fast he hadn't even bothered taking the phone from me.

He didn't even look at my outstretched hand. I angrily placed it into my pocket. He had taken his gun out of his holster and had proceeded to load it. He kept the nuzzle pointed to the ground as he stepped out of the car.

"Wh…what are you doing?" I asked rolling down my window.

He ignored my question.

By this time Spencer had walked around to my side of the car. My hand went to the handle to open to door. His hand grabbed my wrist so quickly I didn't even see it as it shot through the open window.

"Don't."

His voice was beseeching. His eyes pleaded even more. They tore at my heart but I was not going to heed him. He held my wrist for a few seconds as he searched my face. He wanted to make sure I was going to stay in the car.

"Dr. Reid, let me out of the car," I said twisting my hand out of his grip.

I pulled at the door handle and threw my whole weight against the door. He shoved right back slamming the door.

"You are not going in there by yourself!" I said angrily and tried again to open it. "Wait until Hotch and Gideon get here."

Spencer remained silent. His face was turned away from me. He couldn't look me in the eye or at my face. I saw my chance. I quietly moved over the small gap between the two front seats. I opened the driver's side door and stepped out.

He sharply turned his head towards me and gave me a look. I glared back.

"You need to stay here for when they arrive," he said walking to the hood of his car. I met him there.

I pointed angrily at him. "_You_ need to stay here for when they arrive." I angrily leaned against the hood. "_You_can't go in there by _yourself_. _You_ need back up."

He bit his lip. "I can't wait any longer. I have to go in."

"If you go in I go in with you," I said as I crossed my arms.

"No…no way," he said shaking his head. "You can't carry a weapon; you don't even have a weapon to carry. You cannot go into a situation like this."

"I can and I will."

He stared at me a few moments longer. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Ok fine. But you stay behind me at all times and if I tell you to get out…you leave and don't look back." He paused. "You understand?"

"Yes," I said trying to sound exasperated. In truth, now I was scared. "Come on, let's go."

"Alright." He pointed to me. "And you stay behind me."

I nodded. We crossed the street my shoulder pressed against his back. We quietly mounted the front porch steps. He looked left and right. He motioned for me to check the window on the right hand side. I did as I was told and I peered through the window. Well I really couldn't, there was a thick lace curtain in the way. I shook my head. He nodded back to me that it was the same on the other side. We met back in front of the door. Spencer hesitantly raised his hand and knocked, lightly.

I sighed and rolled my eyes as I his commandment. I stepped in front of him to knock on the door. He tried to intercede in my doing so but I was too quick. He hastily shoved me back behind him. No answer.

"Stand to the side," he said getting into a position to knock down the door.

"Isn't this considered breaking and entering?" I said refusing to stand to the side. "We have no probable cause and no evidence that something has happened here."

He shot me look that told me to be quiet. And I moved to the side.

_BAM!_

With a mighty shove Spencer kicked in the door. How he ever managed that I do not know. He is not terribly built and he is so skinny, I could probably break him. He trained his gun in through the front door, right then left. He then proceeded to enter. I followed behind him.

"Stay here," he whispered urgently turning around.

I quickly obeyed. I didn't want to argue with him. His life was in his own hands. If he got shot it was his own fault. I moved to the side of the door and leaned against the molding.

Through two longs minutes I held my breath. I stained to hear movements inside. I could faintly hear doors opening and closing, footsteps on tile floor, and swish of Spencer's rapid arm movement. My heart thudded uncomfortably against my chest. I could feel my stomach drop with each passing second. With each moment that he didn't return I feel my worry rise ever so slightly. I closed my eyes and hoped when I opened them things would be better that he would be back.

But I had decided it was better than waiting in the car.

I heard the creak of floorboards in front of me. My eyes shot open fearing I would be face to face with Jacoby Ewell. It was just Spencer. He replaced his gun back into his holster on the front of his hip. I looked at him questioningly as he shook his head. He slowly motioned for me to follow him. I nodded and slowly entered behind him.

I stepped into the foyer and looked around me. It was a simply furnished house with an open layout. The kitchen was to the right with the living room next to it and there were stairs to my immediate left. There were pictures of Dustin everywhere. Dustin and his gapped-tooth school picture; Dustin holding a baseball bat; Dustin blowing out candles on a birthday cake; Dustin sitting beneath a Christmas tree unwrapping gifts; Dustin snuggling a puppy at a farm; Dustin………

There was no evidence of a father. But worst of all there was no evidence of even another son.

Spencer mounted the stairs and didn't even turn around to see if I was following him. I followed closely behind. We came to hallway and followed it straight down.

As we passed a room on my right I looked in. It was a young boy's room with baseball paraphernalia everywhere. I didn't see a young child's body though.

I looked to my left and peered into the guest bedroom. Nothing.

Spencer hadn't even glanced into either one. I knew he knew what was in them. I kept following him down the hallway until we came to the master bedroom. This was the only door that was closed. His hand went to the doorknob as I began to mentally prepare myself for the ordeal that awaited me. Spencer glanced back in my direction. I nodded and bit my lip.

He turned the doorknob and opened the door to the master bedroom. He went thought first blocking my view. I quietly followed behind him straining to see over his shoulder. As he moved to the side I got my first look at the bedroom.

I took a small intake of breath, whether from shock or relief, I don't know. I walked forward to the edge of the bed and just stared. So mesmerized was I by what I found I didn't have time to analyze how Spencer was reacting.

…_. Bzzzzz…Bzzzzz…._

I jumped at the sudden vibration in my back pocket. It was Spencer's phone. I hastily took it out and looked at the caller id. It read 'Hotch'. I hit talk.

"Hotch, we have a problem," I said looking from Spencer to the bed and back again.

"We most certainly do, Beth," he said worry in his voice. "Where are you?"

"Inside," I said half listening.

"You entered the Ewell residence without waiting for us?" I could feel the worry turn to anger. "You and Reid could have been both seriously hurt or killed." I could feel his glare come through the phone. "Dr. Reid knows protocol and should have waited for us. He can't properly clear a scene without other people there."

"Where are you?" I asked. I had figured he had to be somewhere near.

"The back of the house wondering where you two are. We were about to go in when Morgan said the front door had been kicked in. JJ was worried sick and Gideon…" He left the thought unfinished. "You and Reid need to get down here now."

"Ok," I said and without a further word I hung up. I looked to Spencer and said, "We are in so much trouble right now."


	18. Desk Job

_A/N: This chapter really explores the physciological effects the case has been having on Beth...be kind in reviewing and 5 this time please!_

**Chapter Eighteen – Desk Job**

I sat absentmindedly twisting a curl between my fingers and staring at the back of Spencer's head. He was staring at a map that was on a clear piece of glass. He held a whiteboard marker in his hand as he began pinpointing different points of interest on the street map of Washington DC and the surrounding area. The five murder sites were in red, his two homes in green, and his rehab center in blue.

We had been here in the local police department since 12:30. It was now four. I had tried to be helpful but I knew I was just getting the way so I left him alone.

What we had found at the house was enough to give Hotch and Gideon good reason to make us stay at the department. The master bedroom had been covered head to toe in blood but it had been so long ago that it had turned brown. No bodies were there so I was supposed to be going through 'John and Jane Doe' reports, but I had given up on that long ago.

I took a piece of notebook paper from my paper stack and crumpled it up. I had decided I was going to aim for the trashcan on the adjoining detective's desk. I aimed, I shot, and I missed. It landed squarely on the officer's head. Spencer turned around at the noise. The detective slowly looked up from his papers and glared at me.

"Sorry," I said timidly. "I was trying to hit the trash can…I missed."

"Obviously," he said gruffly and he angrily went back to his paperwork.

"Any luck?" Spencer asked returning to the board.

"No…" I said exasperated. I was hating desk duty. "Garcia could do this in a few minutes so why am I doing this?"

"It's your punishment. And this is mine," he said tapping his marker against the board.

"But if the punishment gets in the way of catching a murder I say it's unfair and wrong." I knew that finding the bodies wasn't going to help us catch Ewell but I just wanted to complain. "And that seems vastly more interesting."

"It is."

"The correct response is: 'No yours is much more entertaining'." I mumbled.

"'No yours is much more entertaining'?" Spencer asked it like a question. I had gotten him confused. "Why would I lie about something as trivial whether mine is more interesting than yours?"

"To make me feel better," I said putting my glasses back on and flipping open a case report on a Jane Doe.

"Or to make you feel more important, to boost your ego," he said inattentively. "We all do that. We want people to make us feel important, like we're loved."

"I agree with your buddy there," the officer said apparently having taken interest in our conversation. I gave him a look. "Hey, I just thought I'd put in my two cents." He went back to his papers.

Spencer turned around surprised.

"Thank you, detective," I said with a big sarcastic smile.

"Anytime ma'm." And with that he got up to file away his paperwork.

I sighed. I was never going to get any respect anywhere anytime. I was just too young.

Spencer began to outline areas in blue, red and green. He colored them in hastily. He took a black marker where they intersected. It was a five-block area in the heart of DC.

"Dr. Smalls, what's in this area?" he asked hitting his knuckle on the spot.

"Um…" I said grabbing a map from beneath my pile. "A dry cleaners...restaurant…apartment building…nightclub…" I paused as realization suddenly hit me. "An apartment building…are you saying…?"

"I'm saying he could live there," he said picking up the desk phone next to me.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Calling Gideon. He and Hotch can go over and…"

I hit the off button. "Call Garcia and have her check the tenants, first."

He nodded and began calling her as I stood up to go to the bathroom. I walked down the hallway to the right. I didn't really have to use the facilities I just needed to get out of that area. I needed to get away from dead ends. I needed to get away from Spencer.

I couldn't explain it but seeing him being so nonchalant about risking his life earlier that day was putting me on edge. The pain of worry was slowly growing in my mind like a worm eating away at my self-confidence. It was slowly chewing at my self-assurance and I knew soon that all would be left was self-doubt and worry. I didn't know if I could handle it. My mental state at the time was fragile enough. I didn't need anything else on top of it.

I pushed open the door of the women's bathroom and as it swung to close behind me I suddenly became angry…angry with Spencer, angry with Ewell, angry with JJ, angry with Hotch and Gideon, but most of all angry at myself. It was an inner frustration that one can only get from the deepest form of despair.

I went and stood in front of the mirror. When women get angry with themselves they begin to pick out every little thing that is wrong with them. So I began to subconsciously nitpick myself.

My eyes were too tiny, my nose too big, my skin too pale, my hair too curly, and my eyebrows too skinny…there were pimples covering my forehead, blackheads across my nose, dry patches on my cheeks, and I could see my skin begin to turn pink from sunburn.

I kicked my foot furiously against the wall. 'Feeling' inadequate and 'looking' inadequate are two different things that are intertwined irrevocably. If one feels like one is not up to par the other becomes so as well, and there is nothing we can do to change it.

Being yelled at a few hours earlier by my superiors had worn down my self-esteem. Feeling helpless in finding the bodies of Dustin and Mrs. Ewell was not helping. I wanted to blame Spencer. I wanted to blame Ewell. I wanted to blame Hotch or Gideon.

But I knew I had to blame myself.

I knew it was myself and myself alone that was causing me this misery. I had gone into the house on my own accord. No one had forced me; in fact I had been discouraged.

I was just angry with myself, mostly, because I was feeling like I could do nothing to change my current status. Whether it be my feelings about my looks, or my behavior, or my personality, or my relationships…I couldn't change the way I assessed my situation.

And I didn't know when I was going to be able to see myself in a different light.


	19. The Profile

_A/N: You guys are horrible at reviewing but I love you anyway!...ok so I was told Hotch sounds a little gay at the end but he just loves Reid like a son, I swear! I hope this clears up some confusion as to why Hotch as been a bit cold to Beth and we finally get a profile of Ewell!_

**Chapter Nineteen – The Profile**

"Beth?"

I heard JJ knock softly on the bathroom stall. I flushed the toilet to make it seem like I had actually been using it. Honestly, I had been sitting on it with the lid down thinking angry thoughts about myself.

"Give me a second Jenny," I said as I turned the doorknob of the stall.

"Beth, are you ok?" she asked as I went to wash my hands in the sink.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" I turned on the facet and began to wash my hands with soap.

"You've been in here for 20 minutes."

I met her eyes in the mirror. I could tell she was concerned but there was no need for her to be. At least not yet. Because it wasn't the case that was getting to me it was my personal life.

I decided to change the subject.

"When did you get back?" I asked grabbing some paper towels.

"A few minutes ago," she said. She knew I didn't want to talk about it so she let it go. "We're about to give the profile."

"Ok," I said.

"You can just stand next to Spence and look cute," she said wrapping her arms around me in a backwards hug.

"How come you always know what to say to me?" I asked smiling. She always knew how to raise my spirits.

"I'm your best friend," JJ said. "And work with criminal profilers." She smiled. "It's what I do."

* * *

JJ and I walked out of the bathroom together. All the policemen and detectives were sitting or standing around waiting for them to begin. JJ and I weren't really needed but it was nice of Gideon and Hotch to wait.

I took an empty spot, which was suspiciously next to Spencer. I shot a look at JJ. She pretended not to notice.

"My team and I already know that we have a suspect," Hotch said explaining why we had gathered everyone. "But we feel it is important for you to understand what type of a person we are dealing with."

"Ewell isn't doing this for a sexual pleasure, he's doing this because he believes this is God's work," Gideon said stepping in. "He picks his victims because they don't fit into his specific mold of what a woman should be."

"And since they don't, he believes it is his right to speak for God and take these women's lives. He doesn't see anything wrong in killing them," Morgan interrupted.

"He stalks his victim's. He knows their schedule and what they do that is so offensive to him. He may even pick out a verse and tries to find someone to fit it," Gideon said continuing. "He's unnecessarily disciplined: the time, the writings, how he actually commits these murders. He considers the killing almost like a ritual for his God."

Spencer pointed out the map behind us. "Most serial killers kill in a zone of comfort. We believe that he most likely lives in this overlapping area of all the zones." He put his finger on the area he had identified earlier.

Emily picked up where he left off. "He is not going to go quietly. He believes what he is doing is right and what we are doing is wrong. You have to understand that he _wants_ to be a martyr. He _wants_ to go out gloriously. You can't give him that."

"He's probably has already picked out his next victim," JJ said crossing her arms next to me. "We have to find her before he kills her."

I just stood in between her and Spencer looking grim. I had nothing to add and nothing to contribute. But this impending doom had fallen upon the group of officers before us. I had grown used to it by now. I was immune to the frantic change in emotions that was palpable in the room.

And I wanted to know what was expected of me. I wanted to know what I was going to do next. I didn't know if I was still in punishment or if I was free. Could I go home? How long was I supposed to stay? What was I going to do if I did stay?

* * *

"Beth," Hotch said pulling me aside after the profile, "can I talk to you for a second?"

He looked ominous. He made me feel uneasy as I followed him into a empty office.

"What's going on?" he asked closing the door.

"What?" I asked.

"You don't have to be a criminal profiler to realize something is going on between you and Reid," he said leaning against the back of a chair.

"Nothing is going on and even if there was I wouldn't discuss my personal life with you," I said sounding slightly offend.

Hotch looked down at his white knuckles as he gripped the chair. "Beth, I see the way he looks at you." He took a breath and looked back up. "Don't hurt him. He's just a kid. There's so much he has yet to be exposed to-"

"Hotch," I said cutting him off, "I could never hurt Dr. Reid."

"Just be careful with him," Hotch said going to the door. "He's more fragile than you think."

And with that he left me alone in the office to ponder what I had just learned.


	20. The Train Ride Home

_A/N: here it is the build up chapter...now its going to get interesting and scary. hope you enjoy and there will be more to follow_

**Chapter 20 – The Train Ride Home**

"So we have nothing," Morgan said indignantly throwing the file down upon the table. "Absolutely nothing!"

It was true. We had followed every lead and they had all lead to dead ends. No one at any of the churches had seen Ewell. If they had they weren't talking. Ewell had been living at the apartment building but had moved out about three weeks ago. Bill his parole officer hadn't heard from him in four months. His rehab center hadn't seen him since he went down to Virginia.

He had dropped of the face of the Earth. And even I was doubting if we would find him before he killed again.

It was too late at night to do anything sensible. At 11pm everything is winding down. There are hardly any leads to be had that late at night. We all didn't want to wait until the next girl was murdered. We wanted to get him before. But when he didn't store the bodies and left hardly any evidence…it was going to be hard.

Gideon pressed his fingertips together. "He has to be stalking somebody. He's getting ready for his next kill."

"So soon?" Emily asked rhetorically.

Hotch drummed his fingers against the top of the table. "Emily and I are going to stake out his parole officer's house. Reid and Morgan are going to go out front of his apartment. We might be able to catch him there."

Morgan grumbled and angrily motioned for Spencer to follow him out of the office. He followed slowly behind. Emily left right behind them.

"You two," he said pointing to JJ and me, "you two go home." Hotch followed behind Emily and JJ and I followed soon after leaving Gideon to think alone in the conference room.

JJ and I moved to some desks right outside the room. She sat down and began to go through and filling out paperwork.

"Do I need to fill any of that out?" I asked leaning over her shoulder.

"Not until this case is closed," she said rapidly going through the pages.

"Ma'm." I turned around and was face to face with a very young detective. "This just came back from the lab. It's the test results on the dried blood found at the scene today."

I took the file he handed me. "Thank you, detective."

He gave me a shy smile and walked away.

"Anything interesting?" JJ asked not even looking up from her files.

I opened the folder and scanned it quickly. "The blood's O-, just like Martha Ewell's. It looks like Ewell killed her…we have to find the body though."

"Uh huh," JJ said not really paying attention.

"Jen, I'm going to go home. I'll leave this here for you," I said placing the folder on a pile of other folders. "Remember to look that over, Jen."

"Ok," she said still not paying attention.

"See you tomorrow. Goodnight." I grabbed my bag and proceeded to leave for the train station.

"Night."

* * *

I situated my bag against so that it was between the train and me as I felt it slowly lurch into motion. It was the last one that night at 11:47 and it was going to take at least 3hrs for me to get home. The station began to move away from me as we gained speed.

I wished the glow of the lights were dimmer so that I could look out at the countryside as it flew past. All I could see when I looked out was my haggard reflection. Well that and the father and son sitting behind me. We were the only people on the commuter train.

I dug through my bag for something to do. I knew I couldn't fall asleep. I came across Spencer's phone. I had never given it back to him. I sighed. I was just going to have to give it back to him tomorrow. I flipped it open. I was going to call Morgan to let Spencer know I had his phone. The screen flashed: _Searching for Network_. It flashed again:_ No Network Found_. I wearily shut the phone and replaced it back in my bag.

Finding nothing in my bag I tried to content myself in looking at my reflection in the window. But I found myself more engrossed with the father and son behind me. The boy was asleep in his father's lap but wrapped in his little arms I could see a baseball and a baseball glove. I smiled. It was just too cute.

I found myself staring more at the father than at the son. I couldn't see his face very well. He had a baseball cap on pulled over his face. Apparently he was trying to get some sleep. He looked young and worn. His clothing had a few holes in it and the bag at his feet looked like it was going to fall apart at any moment.

The conductor came by and asked me for my ticket. I picked it up from next to me and handed it too him. He punched it and I thanked him. He moved behind me to the father and son. I watched intently in the reflection.

He politely awoke the man and asked for their tickets. As he absentmindedly adjusted his baseball cap I caught a look at his face. I saw familiar twinkling blue eyes and a lean face. His hair was a dark jet black which matched the boy's asleep in his lap. His chin had slight stubble.

My mind immediately flashed to the mug shot of Ewell. My mind began to make the comparisons almost instantaneously. He was slightly older looking and a little more lean. But there was no mistaking who it was.

My gaze turned towards the boy. Pieces where beginning to fall into place. My mind went back to the report I was given. There was only one blood type found at the blood scene. It was only Martha Ewell's. Dustin wasn't dead like we had supposed. He was alive sitting with his brother on the train with me.

Ewell handed the conductor two tickets and was careful not to rouse Dustin. He smiled as he was given them back. He went back to sleeping.

I grabbed Spencer's phone again. I flipped it open. There was one bar. I decided to risk it. I put the phone closest to the window. I was trying to not raise suspicion. I didn't want him to know that I knew who he was. I decided to call the only person I trusted.

"Jareau."

She came through fuzzy and broken.

I tried to keep my voice to a soft whisper. "Jen, it's Beth."

"Beth?" She was breaking up.

"Listen to me. Ewell is on the train with me."

"E-ell…–s…o-…t-e...tr-n?"

It was getting worse. I didn't know how much longer I had. I tried to keep myself calm. I couldn't panic he would know.

"Jen, he's following me." I glanced back at him. He hadn't stirred one bit. "I'm his next victim. He's going to kill me next."

It was the conclusion I had come to. Why else would he travel outside of his comfort zone? Why else would he be leaving? I knew in my gut he was following me. I knew that if someone didn't help me I was going to die. I knew I couldn't go home. He would kill me if I went home. I didn't know where I should go. I couldn't go back. This was the last train. I was stuck.

"…-can't…un-st-nd…u-…"

"He's going to kill me."

I got the buzz of a dial tone. Spencer's phone had run out of battery. I was trapped. Even when I got off of this train there was no one I could contact. I was left stranded with a mad man. A man that had killed and would kill me if I didn't do anything. But I didn't know what to do. The police wouldn't be out at this time of night.

Who could I tell? Who could I turn to? And I was scared because the only person I could come up with was myself. I didn't know if I was strong enough. I didn't know if I was ready. I had never been faced with my impending death before. The toll that it takes on someone mentally is indescribable. I knew exactly how I was going to die.

I would have rather committed suicide than live through that torture. But as seeing that there was nothing I could do that with I was going to have to go through it. I was going to have to figure out how to survive.

I knew I couldn't physically defend myself…but maybe…just maybe I could mentally…


	21. Nightmares Were Never This Scary

_A/N: ok there are a couple things i need to answer. _

_1- yes, Jacoby and Dustin are supposed to be from the Boston Red Sox. Jacoby Ellsbury (outfield and has stolen 35 bases so far) and Dustin Pedroia (2nd bases last year's rookie of the year)._

_2- Beth, as stated it ch14, does not have a cell phone._

_ok I think thats it! enjoy!!...i'm really having fun writing these next chapters!_

**Chapter 21 – Nightmares Where Never This Scary**

The train came to a slow grinding halt. I quickly grabbed my bag and headed out of the train. I caught Ewell out of the corner of my eye as he carefully reached for the bag at his feet without waking Dustin. It had to be around 3am. And I had a slight problem.

How does one tell someone else they are going to be killed? Do you walk up to them? In a note perhaps? How does one approach the subject or do you just blurt it out?

But here was my other problem. I was afraid that if I told someone he would know. That he would be able to get away with Dustin and kill again. I couldn't let that happen. I was going to be his last victim…if it was the last thing I did.

I stepped off of the train onto the platform trying to think of my next move. I couldn't go home, I had already established that. But what was open at 3 in the morning? My adrenaline was pumping too hard for me to think clearly. It was like a foggy nightmare. I thought the blood pumping faster through your brain was supposed to make you think clearer. Apparently that only happens to certain people.

I decided to take my normal route home. Maybe I could find something on the way. I walked down past the darkened windows of many a building and home. I walked up to a place called _Marianne's Diner_. The lights were out but right as I was about to pass it they flickered back on. It was like a sign from God.

I walked to it and pushed open the door. The diner was typical to the 1950's. It had a counter with swivel bar stools with a partially open kitchen. There were booths along the open back wall and in front of the windows on either side. There was a waitress in back behind the counter, one in front, and who I assumed to be a cook.

A bell quietly rang above me. I poked my head in and called, "Can I still grab a bite to eat?"

A 40-something waitress with too much hairspray and too much makeup on with a nametag that read Rhonda walked up to me and said, "We're always open. Didn't yah read the sign?" She gave an exasperated sigh and popped a piece of bubblegum in my face.

It was like some ironic twist of fate. I had walked into the typical diner scene in the midst of my own personal hell.

"Take a seat wherever," she said as I picked one out next to the front window. "Coffee?"

"Um…do you have tea?" I asked timidly. She was rather intimidating.

She looked confused. "We have sweet tea but-"

"No _hot_ tea," I said correcting her. "The kind they serve in England and boil in a tea kettle."

She put a hand on her hip and gave me an annoyed look. I gave a small smile. She walked away without saying another word except for popping her gum one final time. I had a feeling that I wasn't going to get my tea.

I grabbed Spencer's phone again. I tried turning it on again. Maybe the battery could live for at least a minute so I could call JJ. A blank screen met all my efforts.

"Hello, Miss. Smalls."

Startled I quickly shut my cell phone and looked up into the face of Jacoby Ewell. He had lost the Red Sox baseball cap since I last saw him but he still looked eerily normal.

His voice was smooth and it sounded like he was used to talking his way out of anything. It was he voice of a charismatic young man who knew he was in control. I had never been so scared in my life.

"Hello Jacoby and its _Dr. _Smalls," I said giving a small smile. I tried to hide my horror as he sat across from me in the booth. I looked around and said slightly panicked, "Where's Dustin?"

"I killed him."

No emotion. No hesitation. No second-guessing. But I was slightly smarter than that.

"No you didn't. You would have killed him along with your mother when you had the chance."

Rhonda came back with a steaming cup and placed it in front of me. She gave an angry glance to Ewell and walked away without a second thought except giving us the gum pop.

I looked down at the cup it was coffee. He, without a second thought, took it from me and took a gulp. As he set down the cup he nonchalantly reached behind him and pulled out a gun and laid it on the table.

I swallowed nervously. "I thought you liked knives."

There had never been any sign of the use of a gun. I was more surprised about that than seeing him on the train.

"It comes in handy," he said his hand still on the gun. "Women are much less intimidated by a knife nowadays." He gave a lopsided grin. "It's much easier to keep them _quiet_."

I heard him cock the gun. I glanced down quickly and looked back up at him.

"Get up and walk out," he said dangerously quiet.

I weighed my options. He didn't want to kill me here. He wanted me at my apartment to drain me of blood and write demeaning phrases in my blood. I still had some control. I had leverage.

"No."

"Get up," he said his anger rising, "and walk out."

"I told you no."

I heard him put the hammer of the gun back into place.

His clenched as he tried to steady his anger. "Get up and walk out."

"Make me," I said sitting back and crossing my arms.

He stood up, slammed his hands down on the table, and yelled, "Walk out the door now!"

I took a breath and talked barely above a whisper. "No."

He grabbed me up by my shoulders and slapped my face. I heard a gasp from Rhonda and maybe from some of the other employees.

"What is going on here?" she asked popping her gum.

Ewell turned his gun on her as I sat back down rubbing my cheek where he had hit me. I heard the slam of the back door. Someone had gone back there. I hoped to call the police.

Her hands went up like in the cop shows (like that would do anything). "What do you want?" She asked suddenly scared. "Money? I can get you money. Take my tips-" She reached into her apron and held the bills in her hand.

"Shut up!" he yelled moving closer to her and pushing her up against the counter. "I don't want your money," he said tossing the bills into the air. "I want her! So you sit there and don't say anything and you'll live."

As he finished this statement a sleepy head appeared over the back of the booth. It was Dustin he had been there the whole time. I breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't dead like Ewell had said he was alive. My heart skipped a few beats and he was here in the diner.

Things had just gotten complicated.

"Jacoby…" he asked scared as his eyes tiredly scanned the room for his brother.

"Go back to sleep Dustin," Ewell said his voice shaking. "I'm right here."

The small child nodded and I saw his head disappear back behind the back of the booth. I could imagine his little arms wrap around his glove and baseball.

I waited a bit before I made my next move. "Are you taking him with us Jacoby?" I asked still sitting. "Is he finally going to watch you kill someone?"

Ewell nodded slowly. "…Yes…"

I stood up slowly saying, "You're planning on making him your apprentice aren't you? You want to take him along and show him all the evils of powerful women. Eventually have him kill someone." I paused as I reached the outside of the booth. "How's he going to feel when he finds out that you killed his mother? What's going to happen then?"

Ewell turned the gun on me. "She was a slut and a whore! She left my father and took away the only thing he had left." His hand was badly shaking he was so angry. "She ruined Dustin's life. I'm going to save him."

I took a step towards him. "Is that what you think you're doing, saving him? You're condemning him! A life on the run from the police…not knowing what each day is going to bring…you're the one that's sentencing him to death not your mother!"

He seemed to stun to speak. His mouth open and closed several times in wonderment. He quickly gathered himself though as his hand steadied the gun. I paused as sudden realization hit me.

"This has never been about God to you…its been about you justifying what your mother did to you. It's about you justifying killing her. It's about you trying to rid the world of people like your mother…" I paused. "You don't really believe in Reverend Finch's teachings but it makes you feel better since you got angry and killed your mother…."

"Shut up," he said. "You have no idea what you are talking about! You don't know me and you didn't know my Mother!"

I gathered more momentum as my voice rose in volume and speed.

"You're nothing but a hypocrite! A filthy disgusting hypocrite! Who wants to make himself feel better by looking for a greater meaning to his anger through God! You're more repulsive and unworthy than Satan himself!"

"I told you to be quiet!" he yelled.

I saw his hand go up with the gun in it. It moved so quickly through the air that I almost missed it. I felt the butt of the gun hit my temple and the sharp pain that followed. My body crumpled at an odd position as it hit the cold marble floor. I heard Rhonda scream.

But as I began to loose what little left I had of my surroundings I heard in the background sirens. The police? Or my imagination? I wasn't sure and I wouldn't find out for sometime.

My last thought before everything went black was, "…Spencer…I never told him anything…anything at all…"


	22. Phone Calls

_A/N: Ok...ok so I know its a bit trite to have her taken hostage but I'd like to think its more unusual with her take charge attitude and her not willing to be a submissive person. Most of the ones that I've read have been ones where the girl is helpless and can't do anything...I'd like to think Beth is a little stronger than that. She's got a bit more spunk!...so please don't get too angry with the next few chapters! _

**Chapter Twenty Two – Phone Calls**

As I slowly came out of my fog I realized several things. My head was still on the cold hard marble floor of the diner. And my body was in the same position that it had been in as I fell. My head throbbed like a migraine. And lastly, it was light outside.

I slowly placed my hands underneath me to lift myself up. My hand went to my head to try and alleviate the pounding pressure from where it had hit the floor and the gun butt.

I surveyed the diner as best as I could. Rhonda was crouched on the floor, up against the counter, knees to her chest crying silently. Ewell was standing next to a phone on the counter. It was one of those old corded phones. Dustin was still sleeping in the booth where Ewell had left him.

_Ring. Ring._

It was the telephone next to Ewell. He just stared at it. The gun in his hand with his arms crossed. Rhonda jumped startled at the noise. But quickly buried her head back into her knees.

I sat up and proceeded to get to my feet. Slowly, of course.

Ewell's gun flashed quicker then lightening as it trained on me. "You stay right there," he said in an angry whisper. "Don't move."

"Well, are you going to answer it?" I asked. My point was punctuated by the telephone ringing once more.

"No. I don't want to talk to your friends." He spat out the last word like it gave him a bad taste.

I took a step closer. It was risky but I had to.

He lowered his arm slightly. I took another step. The gun was back at its regular height. "No! NO! I'm not answering that phone." I jumped startled at how quickly his anger rose. "You get back by the window. If they want to know you're alive they can see you!"

I slowly backed up until I hit something solid and sat down. The ringing of the phone stopped. Communication had not occurred. I tried to think clearly but my temple still throbbed. And I knew nothing was going to change.

I looked around the diner for a clock. None. I saw one on Rhonda's wrist.

"…Rhonda…" No response. Her head remained buried in her knees. "….Rhonda…" Nothing. "…Rhonda…"

She head snapped up and she pointed an accusing finger at me. "…You…this is all your fault…"

"My fault?" I said disbelievingly.

"If you hadn't come into this diner-"

"If I hadn't come into this diner I would be dead!" I yelled. "I would be in my apartment right now with my body drained and misinterpreted Bible verses written in my blood. So I'm sorry if I didn't have your interest at heart at 3am…I was trying to save my own ass!"

"…You mean…?"

"Yes," I said lowering my voice to a fervent whisper, "that's the serial killer Jacoby Ewell. And I was supposed to be his next victim."

"…But how did you…?"

Ewell slammed his fist down on the counter. "Will you two shut up! I can't think with all of your bickering!"

I waited until he had gone back to being distracted. "I know who he is because I was called in to consult for the FBI on his case," I said as quickly and quietly as possible.

I saw a look of understanding pass through her eyes. And something else. She took a breath and said, "Does that mean you can get us out of here?"

I paused as I tried to hide the fear from my eyes. I couldn't have this lady depending on me for survival. I wasn't trained for this. I was an English Professor at William and Mary. I was a girl who should not have anything to do with guns or bodies or killers. Could I honestly tell her that? I brushed a piece of hair that had fallen out of my ponytail out of my eyes. I opened my mouth-

I was cut off by having to answer by the sound of the phone ringing. Ewell had apparently had enough of it.

He pointed his gun at me and said, "Pick it up."

I hesitantly stood up and went to sit on a barstool in front of the phone.

"Pick it up," he repeated through gritted teeth.

I tentatively reached for the receiver. "Only answer in yes and no," he said quietly as I lifted it to my ear. "No sentences, no hidden messages. Only yes and no."

I took a breath and waited patiently to hear who was on the other end.

"Hello Jacoby." It was Gideon. God it was good to hear his voice on the other end.

"No."

"Beth?" he asked disbelievingly.

I smiled. "Yes."

I could hear some shuffling of things in the background. The people listening in on headphones were not being very quiet.

"Are you hurt?" It was another voice, JJ's.

My hand went automatically to my head. "Slightly."

I could feel the cold muzzle of the gun up against my temple. "Miss. Smalls…only yes and no."

I was hoping they could hear what he had told me. "Ok, I hear you. And it's _Doctor_, Jacoby."

There was more shuffling on the other end of the line. Gideon came back on.

"Say yes for how many people are there in the diner with you."

I took a breath. "Yes." I paused. "Yes."

I could feel the muzzle of the gun slowly lower from my temple as Gideon continues asking me questions.

"Is one of them Dustin?"

I looked over and caught a glimpse of the small boy still sleeping. He stirred slightly like he could feel my gaze.

"Yes."

"Beth," said Gideon pausing, "try and see if you can get Ewell on the phone."

I nodded. Stupid I know but I did. I thought maybe they could see me through the glass. Against the back wall? Ok I knew it was illogical but I did it anyway.

I racked my brain trying to think of something that would get him on the phone.

"Jacoby," I said handing him the receiver timidly, "your dad's on the phone."

He took the phone from me a bit startled but put it to his ear. His face changed a little. It went from hard lines to a soft gaze.

"Dad?" His face went to anger though when he realized it was Gideon. "Next time when you say my father's on the line he better be there!"

He slammed down the phone. Rhonda jumped a little and Dustin stirred. His gun went to my temple again. He slammed me down to the counter as his hand went around my neck.

"Don't you ever lie to me again!" I could hear the gun cock. "I could end your life right now! And no one could stop me!" His hand tightened around my throat. "You have no power!"

I closed my eyes to try and stop the tears that were threatening to overflow.

"Go ahead…" I whispered back. "…No one's stopping you…no one's confronting you…" My voice rose in volume and momentum. "But you won't…because you know that if you do you're as good as dead. Is your life worth losing to kill me?"

I shut my eyes even tighter trying to shut out my tears. I thought it wouldn't have worked. I was waiting for the inevitable pop of a gun. Maybe a sharp pain and then blackness. I was waiting for death.

He gave me a final shove but uncocked the gun and let go of my neck. He angrily walked to the bathroom. The door swung shut with a loud bang. Rhonda jumped again.

I was contemplating about leaving when the phone rang again. My eyes went to the bathroom door. I didn't see him. My fingers itched to pick it up. I quickly put the receiver to my ear.

"Beth?"

The voice was questioning and strained. It was a voice I dreaded and loved. It was Spencer's. And he had used my first name.

I took a breath. "Yes."

"Oh God! You're ok!" He sounded so relieved. "Are you hurt badly?"

I put my hand to my head. I winced a little as I touched the delicate wound. I looked at my fingers. They had blood smeared across their tips. Funny, I hadn't noticed that before.

I thought about it and decided, "No, I just have a slight cut on my head. I'm fine." I glanced nervously back at the bathroom door.

"Oh good. JJ will be relieved." He paused.His tone changed to one of melancholy deliberation. There was an awkward pause.

"I'm going to see if I can get Dustin and Rhonda out of here. I'll be back."

"Wait! Beth, don't get off the phone!" He nearly shouted into my ear. "Stay on the phone with me!"

"I'll be back. I promise," I said quickly. I placed the receiver down on the counter and walked over to Rhonda. I knelt down beside her and said, "I'm going to get you out of here." I glanced back over to the bathroom door. I gently stood her up. "If you go quickly you can make it."

I quickly took her to the front door. "They're going to shoot me," she said talking about the cops outside.

"No…no they're here to help you," I said soothingly.

She repeated, "They're going to shoot me."

I glanced back at the bathroom door nervously. "They won't shoot you if you take Dustin."

She pondered for a second. "They're going to shoot me."

She was suffering from shock. I was just going to have to give her directions and hope she would follow them. I went to where Dustin was sleeping.

I shook him gently saying, "Hey buddy." He opened his eyes slowly and sat up. "Hi Dustin. I'm Beth one of your brother's friends."

"Hi," he said sleepily.

"Jacoby wants you to go outside. He has some people he wants you to meet."

"Who?" he asked his eyes opening wide.

"Some real policemen." I slowly slid him out of his seat and adjusted his Red Sox cap. I took his freehand; the other had his glove and baseball, and led him over to Rhonda. "Rhonda's going to take you out to meet them." I put his tiny hand in Rhonda's. "Rhonda, you are to take Dustin outside when I tell you."

She nodded but I could see her lips moving forming that phrase over and over again.

I went back to the phone and said, "I'm sending them out now, so don't shoot." I put my hand over the receiver. "Rhonda you can walk out. You'll be fine."

She slowly pushed open the door and I could see her walking towards the police cars and FBI vehicles circled around the diner. I saw SWAT move in and take them away from the shooting zone. I was about to follow when I saw Ewell walk out of the bathroom. He was so angry he couldn't even say anything he began to walk over to me and began to wrestle me for the phone.

I began to speak as quickly as possible trying to get everything that needed to be said conveyed. "Rhonda's suffering from shock she need's a medic to look at her. And have a policeman talk to Dustin. I promised he would talk to one. And get his dad over here. And tell JJ not to call my parents. I do not want them knowing-"

I had finally lost my battle as Ewell ripped the phone out of my hands and slammed it into the receiver. His hand went around my throat again and the gun into my cheek.

"I told you not to cross me again," he yelled. "So what do you do? You get rid of my brother and that waitress!" The gun cocked. "I've given you too many chances!" He moved the gun to the center of my forehead. "This is the end of the road for you."

"Federal Agent! Drop the gun or I'll shoot!"

Ewell roughly and quickly placed me in front of him. The gun now moved to my temple with his arm around my neck in a headlock. My hands clung to his arm fighting for air.

I opened my eyes and saw Spencer standing there. It was my greatest relief but also my worst nightmare.


	23. The Trade

Chapter Twenty Three – The Trade

**Chapter Twenty Three – The Trade**

There were a few minutes of Spencer trying to look fierce and Ewell pressing the gun into my head. Spencer looked like he was going to burst into tears but his gun hand was steady. I was still fighting for air with Ewell. I made a jerky movement every so often.

Spencer spoke first. "I'm going to put my gun back in my holster, ok?"

Ewell gave a slight nod. Spencer looked to me then back to Ewell. He flipped his gun so that the muzzle was in the air. His hands flew up in the characteristic 'don't shoot' pose. He slowly moved his gun back to his holster on the front of his hip.

He was about to put it in when Ewell exclaimed, "Stop! Place it on the counter." Spencer deliberated for barely a second before complying. "Slide it towards me."

Spencer slid it across the counter. His fingers slightly shook as they left the gun handle back to his defensive position.

"Look, Jacoby, I just want to talk-"

Ewell cut him off as he turned the gun on him. "If you wanted to talk to me, you could have done it on the phone!"

He swallowed nervously and said, "You're absolutely right. I should've called."

I wanted to roll my eyes. He hadn't wanted to talk on the phone. Ewell had wanted no one but his father. Now Spencer was being berated for not talking to Ewell. It was like an ironic twist of fate but this one wanted to make me laugh. Not the best time to do so.

But I knew Spencer was not about to argue with a man who had a gun on him. His word was law. Ewell was God and to trespass against him would be to commit a sin.

"Take off the vest," Ewell said gun still trained on him. Spencer looked down uneasily at the white FBI letters. "Take it off!"

His fingers flew at the straps on either side of him. He quickly slipped it off his shoulder and held forward. His arm was steady but I could see his other hand clench and unclench nervously. His eyes went back to me. I tried to smile but that was made difficult by my lack of air.

Ewell shoved me forward away from him. I stumbled and tripped landing on my knees. I began coughing as the rush of oxygen shocked my lungs.

This made no sense. Ewell had just given up his leverage. Why? What was he thinking? What was his plan? I knew I wasn't going to like it.

"Take that ear piece out," Ewell said pointing to Spencer's communication device.

Spencer looked down to me. I nodded as his freehand hastily ripped out the device.

"The whole thing."

Spencer dropped the vest in front of me as his fingers dug down his collar. As the wire popped out I slowly stood up. The room spun slightly from the rush. My hand gently rubbed my neck. I good feel the bruises slowly forming under my touch.

"Handcuffs, Dr. Reid," said Ewell. His voice took on the tone of like someone talking to a child. "Just like we talked about."

"What?" I managed to choke out. Partly from surprise and partly from being in a choke hold for so long.

"Let me help her put on the vest first," he said defiantly. "That was the deal."

His eyes flickered to me tears on the brim of them. I was too shocked to say anything else. He slowly bent down and picked up the vest.

As he slipped it on over my shoulders I whispered, "Deal?"

"Yes, deal. You for me." He strapped me in tightly and securely.

"When was this made?" I whispered furtively.

He didn't answer me but spun me around to face Ewell. He gently pushed me forward.

"Handcuffs," Ewell said gun on Spencer instead of me.

I turned around as I heard the clang of metal against metal. Spencer was sitting down on the floor handcuffed to the barstool stem.

I took a step towards him but Spencer looked up at me with pleading eyes. He was telling me to go. He was telling me to listen to him. For me not to argue.

'No' I mouthed at him. 'Don't make me'.

He said nothing but his eyes grew even sadder if that was even possible. I fought back tears that we threatening to overflow.

"No," I whispered.

He averted his eyes down. He couldn't meet my eyes.

Part of me wanted to leave but part of me wanted to stay. I couldn't leave him there. But my logical side told me to get out and leave. I wanted to obey him but disobey him. What was I supposed to do?

"Please," he said pleadingly. "Go." He looked back up and quietly said, "It'll be ok."

Ewell grabbed me by the vest and shoved me toward the door. My back was to both of them as I stopped right in front of the door. My hand reached hesitantly towards the handle. As my fingers touched the cool metal I stopped and looked back.

"Leave or the deal is off," he said angrily.

I looked to Spencer as the gun was still trained on him.

He looked at me and said, "I'll be fine."

I looked through the glass and saw Morgan waiting there by the door. His gun was held tightly in both hands. He beckoned me with his head. I looked at him. I wanted to shake my head no but something forced me to push open the door.

Maybe it was Spencer's will. Maybe it was Morgan through the glass. Maybe it was the will to survive. The promise of freedom was intoxicating to someone who had been cooped up with his or her life threatened. But I left Spencer there to sacrifice himself for me. I left him to die.

As soon as the door was open wide enough for me to get through Morgan threw his arm around me. He pulled me as fast as he could through the line of police cars and SWAT team. I was basically man handled all the way to the ambulance that was waiting a safe distance away.

JJ was standing there with some paramedics as Morgan placed me on the edge of the open ambulance door. One paramedic began to address the cut on the head; the other began checking my pupils.

"How could you let him?" I said tears almost coming down my cheeks. I turned to JJ. "You knew and you let him go in there? To trade himself for me?"

JJ tried to soothe me by saying, "I didn't know about it, Beth. He did it without telling anyone."

"You could have stopped him. Morgan," I turned to him now the paramedics still hovering over me, "you were close enough to stop him."

I was becoming slowly hysterical. Their calm demeanor was not helping. I wanted them as scared as I was. I wanted them to be like me. The relaxed stances made me feel like I was going crazy.

I finally shoved off the medics and said, "He's just a kid. He's going to get himself killed! And it's all my fault…it's all my fault…my fault…"

JJ sat down beside me and put her arm around my shoulders. "He'll be fine, Beth. Spence knows what he's doing."

I buried my face in my hands. "How could you let this happen?" I cried. "How could you,' I said twisting away from JJ, "and you," I said looking up angrily at Morgan, "not know what he was planning? How could you not now he had talked to him?"

Morgan looked down at the ground not meeting my gaze. "You knew didn't you?" I asked standing up and nearly shouting. "You knew and you let him go in there to save me?" My head began to feel light and everything began to spin. But I wasn't sitting down. "How could you?" I nearly collapsed next to JJ.

A paramedic came rushing over to me. I could feel JJ's worried looks from beside me. But I could also feel her dirty looks she was giving Morgan. After confirming I had a concussion they immediately began loading me into the van.

"No! No," I said struggling free from their grasp. "I can't leave! I won't leave!"

"You need to go to the hospital," said one of them.

"You're going to need to get a MRI," the other said.

"I'm not leaving," I said shoving them aside. "Jen, don't make me leave. Not until Dr. Reid does."

JJ shook her head. "Beth, you're injured-"

"Let her stay," Morgan said cutting her off. "The concussions not going anywhere."

JJ looked up from me and glared at him, but she let the matter drop. I sat there my head pounding. Morgan walked away and JJ nudged me a bit with her shoulder. I nudged back and looped my arm through hers.

I could feel a tear slip down my nose and saw it hang at the tip of my nose.

"He's going to be fine, Beth," she said squeezing my arm. "Trust me."

I began to slowly nod when-

POP!

It sounded like a firework or the slamming of a car door. But I knew what it was. And I lost it. Bursting into tears I shoved myself away from JJ. She knew it was best to let me go. People were saying things. SWAT was being employed and I saw the team rush by. But all I could hear was the popping sound repeating over and over and over again in my head.


	24. Darkness

_A/N: Im so glad that you all have enjoyed the last few chapters! There are a few things that need to be mentioned_

_1) I have just caught something from the 1st chapter. JJ did not go to Penn State but went to University of Pittsburgh...so sorry about that. That was my fault and I take full responsibility._

_2) I have gotten a few pms from readers saying they are confused about the unsub Ewell. Things will be cleared up __shortly I promise!_

_Hope you enjoy the chapter!_

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Four – Darkness**

I know in TV shows and movies when a traumatic thing happens everything happens in slow motion but that is not how I experienced it. In fact I wished it had been going slower maybe I would have been able to comprehend what was going on better.

JJ soon dashed off and I lost her among the vehicles and people. I could hear bleeps on the radio communication but I didn't understand any of it. It was just an annoying buzz in my ear like a fly I was trying to swat away.

I could make out in the distance Hotch, Morgan, and Emily making their way through the front door. I turned away. I couldn't bear to see them drag out Spencer's body.

I knew he was dead. I can't explain how or why but I jut knew it. I could picture his body laying on the cold floor his body slowly becoming the same temperature. Ewell with a satisfied look in his eye would be taken into custody.

I didn't know if I could live with myself. It was my entire fault. Directly or indirectly I knew I was somehow responsible for his death. I thought I was going to be sick again on the pavement.

My head began to spin. My vision suddenly went dark like a black cloth had been placed over my eyes. I could make out shapes still but I knew something wasn't right. I knew I was going to pass out. I heard someone shout something but it made no sense. And then nothing.

The blackness was welcoming and comforting. There I couldn't think about Spencer. There was just emptiness and it was like a warm soft blanket wrapping around my mind. It protected me from my racing thoughts and my panicked heart. If I could have chosen I would have wished to stay that way for a longer time to not have to face what was going to happen. Because there was no pain there only comfort.

* * *

"…She has a pretty bad concussion…dehydration probably caused her to pass out and shock…IV should get her better…needs rest…"

A female doctor spoke the words. They came in and out of my comprehension. Some words came out louder then others. I began to come out of the blackness I longed to remain in. I could feel the scratchy blanket of a hospital sheet against my skin. But as the beep of my heart monitor came into my hearing I was plunged back into darkness.

JJ's voice came through muffled like through closed doors and I only caught some of the words.

"…Don't tell her…couldn't stand the shock…"

As soon as she said that I forced myself back into the darkness. How long I lay there I don't know. But I enjoyed every minute of it. Because in this blackness I could hold off from reality. I didn't have to hear anyone say those fatal words or deal with the consequences. Not yet anyway.

I slowly came out of the darkness to the irritating beep of a heart monitor with the fainter beep of the IV drip. I slowly opened my eyes and found JJ sitting very still in a chair beside me. The lights of the room were dimmed to help with my concussion. I could barely make her out sitting beside me. I slowly reached out my hand and touched her knee. She jumped, startled.

"Hey sleepy girl," she said quickly recovering. "How are you feeling?" She moved so that she was sitting on the edge of the bed with my hand clasped between hers.

"Thirsty," I managed to say. My voice was raspy and dry.

"Well you can't have anything to drink yet," she said smiling. "Is your head ok?" She gently touched the cut on my forehead. I nodded tiredly. "You should have left when I told you to leave."

"Next time I'll listen," I said giving a faint smile. "What time is it?"

"It's about 6 at night," she said playing with one of my curls with her fingers.

"I want to go home."

She smiled. "Not just yet." She patted my hand. "Maybe later tonight." There was a soft knock at the door. "I'll be right back."

She patted my hand and went to the door. The light from the hallway streamed into the room and I averted my eyes. I couldn't make out what they were saying but I could tell they were arguing. Their low tones rose and fell in volume until the door shut. I couldn't see JJ since my eyes were growing accustomed to the darker light of the room. She sat back in the chair her form folded in on itself.

I wanted her to leave so that I could cry. I didn't want her to see how devastated I was that Spencer had died. She seemed to be taking it well. No tears no sniffles not even a fake smile.

I rolled away from her onto my other side. "Can you leave me alone, Jen," I asked fighting the tears that were brimming on the edge of my tears. "Please."

She remained silent but did not move. Normally she could tell when I wanted to be left alone. But still she sat unmoving in the chair. I rolled back over to tell her off and say a snappy remark.

"Jen, I said-"

I cut myself off as my eyes fell over the form of Spencer. I thought my mind was playing tricks on me.

"…What…" I asked. My voice came out breathy and high-pitched.

He gave a small smile. He looked tired and worn. His tie was loosened around his neck and his sleeves were rolled up just so.

"Hello Dr. Smalls," he said. He sounded just as tired as he looked.

"…I thought…I thought…" My mouth couldn't form the rest of the words.

His eyes grew dark for a second. "I thought you knew."

I shook my head. "I heard the gun shot and I just assumed…I just assumed…" He averted his eyes down. My voice came out small and quiet. "What happened?"

I couldn't see anywhere that he had been hit. He looked absolutely fine.

"He shot himself," he said nonchalantly looking back at me. "He couldn't handle going to the police or having Dustin see him in handcuffs."

"So he committed suicide. Case closed."

He said nothing but sat there watching me. I quietly closed my eyes and fell asleep under his gaze. I knew I looked horrible. I knew that I was not leaving for sometime. But I was content. I longed for nothing else because Spencer was alive. He could never love me. Never want to hold me or kiss me. But he was alive and that was all I needed. I just wanted him to be happy.

* * *

"Jen, I don't need a wheelchair," I said slipping on my black flats.

"You're still a bit dizzy from the drugs," she said. "And you said you would listen to me next time."

"I was drugged and tired and I meant next time I had a concussion," I said angrily tucking in my button down shirt into my trousers.

JJ had managed to get me home at a decent hour. Ok it was 11 o'clock at night but I did not want to spend a night in a hospital. And besides I was fine. There was no reason for me to stay.

I walked out of the hospital room. JJ was behind me looking like she was ready to grab me if I fell. The whole team had already left and gone home. Walking out of the front of the hospital I found JJ's car and waited by the door as she unlocked it.

"Are you sure you don't want to spend the night at my house?" she asked like a concerned parent.

"Really, Jen, I'm fine." I said buckling myself into the front seat. "I just want to go home and sleep in my own bed." I leaned my head against the cool side glass window. "It's been a long two days."

"Let me spend the night at your house," she said as we pulled out of the parking lot. "You shouldn't be alone."

"But I want to be alone."


	25. Let Me Save You

_A/N:Ok I have literally rewritten this chapter about three times. It was origianlly so out of character it was sickening. Spencer was 'debonair' almost and Beth was a complete weakling. The 2nd time was close to the final but some things had to go. Mainly the ending bit. The beginning is the same from the orginal but the middle is completely different. I hope you enjoy! And we're still not done!_

**Chapter Twenty Five – Let Me Save You**

I closed the door. I couldn't look at JJ's face anymore. She was so concerned, so worried… I just wanted to be alone. She and I had basically argued for fifteen minutes about her staying. I kept saying no. If I needed her I would call. My cats, Mina and Jane, would look after me. I wasn't five I didn't need her. She finally consented to me staying by myself. But she said she was spending tomorrow with me. It was a fair deal. So I accepted.

I double checked the lock and thought about taking a shower. But all I could think of was Jacoby Ewell dressed in drag opening my shower curtain and stabbing me repeatedly. Stranger things have happened then a repeat of the Hitchcock movie in my house. I shook my head to get the image out of my mind. Good thing I didn't have any stuffed animals.

I saw Mina, her black coat shining, slink out of my bedroom her green eyes flashed in the darkness. I couldn't bring myself to turn on the light. I was afraid if I did I would see Ewell standing in a corner pointing a gun at me. I felt safer in the dark. Mina looked at me solemnly; she could tell something was wrong.

"Go away, Mina," I said practically yelling at her. She meowed startled but went into the kitchen anyway.

I groaned and found my back hitting my door. I slid down to the bottom and ran my fingers through my hair. I could feel the tears creating rivers down my cheeks and I could feel the salty raindrops as they landed on my arm but I didn't care. I had been holding back tears ever since I had seen Ewell on the train and now I just couldn't handle it. Sure I had cried earlier but it had been somewhat restrained. I hadn't been alone in the quietness of my apartment. It had been in public. It felt so good just to sit there without feeling weak and to cry.

How long I sat there, my back against a heavily locked door, I don't know nor do I care.

The pounding of my door shook me out of reverie. I gave a loud squeak of fright but quickly covered my mouth. Now I regretted my proneness to be easily scared. Now whoever was at the door knew I was awake. I supposed I had to look to see who it was.

I peered through the peephole and all I saw was a chin. I knew who it was though and I decided I wasn't going to open it.

I knew that if I had to look in the eyes of the man who had been willing to die for me I would loose my sanity. Most people who are saved from death by the sacrifice of another are usually important. Presidents, movie stars, insurgent leaders, a god…a loved one. But I am just an ordinary person. Yes I am loved by others but not as unconditionally to have someone die for me. There is nothing special or unique about me. It is just myself with my emotions on my sleeve, nerdy attitude, my weak stomach, my proneness to tears, and my proneness to anger.

I should have died in that diner. I should have been shot, then my throat and wrists slit, and demeaning things should have been written on the wall in my blood. That is what should have happened, but it didn't.

Spencer had been willing to die for me. I didn't know if I could handle that; I didn't know if I could live with that. Seeing him standing there alive when he should be dead.

I backed away from the door and turned to leave him standing there. Maybe I could face him tomorrow. Maybe I could face him in a few weeks. I was hoping I could face him someday. But I wasn't sure.

"…. Dr. Smalls…" He paused. "…Beth…". The shock of him using my name stopped me in my tracks. "I know you're in there." I turned around slowly staring at the door. I could almost see him standing there. "And I know you're awake." He didn't sound like he was certain, in fact he sounded unsure.

Before I knew what was happening I was turning the lock of my door, taking the chain off, and opening it a small crack.

"Dr. Reid, what are you doing here?" I said trying to put on a cheery voice. "I was just going to bed." My voice faltered a bit as I said, "Did Jen send you?"

He looked haggard, worn out, and sad. Worse then before at the hospital. His tie was askew on his neck, his shirt untucked at various places, his jeans wrinkled, and his hair was knotty and disheveled. It looked like he had gone home to try and sleep and he couldn't.

He ignored my question completely. "Can I come in?" he asked his hands shoved awkwardly into his pockets like earlier.

I scratched my head trying to think. I was way to tired to be thinking coherently. "Sure." I opened the door all the way to let him in. He went and sat in the same spot he had the day before. "Can I get you anything?"

He sat there on the couch fidgeting. "No, I don't need anything."

I sat down beside him. A few moments of uncomfortable silence followed. I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. He opened and closed his mouth a few times like he was going to say something. I waited.

He took a deep breath. "I came over here to talk to you about three things." He was staring at his fingers as he laced and unlaced them. "First, I would like to apologize for not telling you about the trade. I knew you were going to oppose it…and I had already made the deal-"

"Dr. Reid," I said cutting him off, "you saved my life. Don't apologize."

He looked up and blushed with a small smile.

"Second, of all I have to talk to you about…about what happened at the hotel in Alabama." He looked back down at his hands. "When I said I didn't remember you-"

"Dr. Reid I've known since the plane ride home that you remembered me." I cut him off as I placed my hand on top of his laced ones. "And I know you didn't want to hurt me. But don't you think you've hurt me enough by not saying you remembered me?" I gave a small smile as he found my face again with his eyes. "I'll be exposed to this job anyway. I'm still friends with Jen."

He moved his hands out from underneath mine. "I suppose your right." He took another breath. "Thirdly, I'm here to make sure you're ok. You almost died today that can affect someone for the rest of your life-"

I cut him off. "Dr. Reid, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" he asked looking up at me from the couch. "Are you absolutely sure that you are going to be fine tonight? Tomorrow? A week from now? Or a year?"

I paused. "Yes." My voice faltered.

He began to speak very quickly almost like a lecture. I knew it was to distance himself from the situation. "Because I know I'm not going to be. I know my nightmares are going to come back. The ones that I've fought so hard to control. I know I'm going to have panic attacks. And probably suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I know all of these things and I'm preparing myself for that." He met my eyes. "Are you?"

In truth I hadn't thought about any of these things. But I still managed to nod my head yes.

He looked incredulous and said, "Then don't push JJ away…or your parents…or me…"

"I thought you didn't want us to be close," I said folding my arms. I could hear the anger in my tone. "That's why you told me you didn't remember me."

He opened his mouth to say something but closed it. He found his watch on the outside of his shirt suddenly very interesting. I watched him as his fingers played with the silver band and face.

He looked up suddenly. "Can I kiss you?"

I thought I hadn't heard him correctly. "Excuse me?"

He stood up abruptly. "I'm sorry." His face became flushed with embarrassment. "I shouldn't have asked. That was way over the line. I'll be going now."

In a few seconds during that short speech he had made it to the door. I stood up as well but didn't move.

"Do it." I took a step forward. "Kiss me."

It was his turn to look shocked. "What?"

"Come over here right now and kiss me." I pointed to the couch and sat down.

He came and sat right down beside me. If he was awkward before he was more awkward now.

He couldn't look me in the eye. He kept looking at his feet or hands, I wasn't sure. He said, "I've never kissed anyone before."

I gave a small smile. "You've read books. Take your knowledge and apply it."

He looked up. "Ok."

He leaned forward and closed his eyes. He moved forward slowly inch by inch. I jumped the gap and crushed my lips full against his. A warm breath of surprise met me but I continued keeping my lips where they were. I was in the middle of a teaching lesson. I was going to give him the final statement.

I finally pulled back and he managed to say a bit breathy, "That is like nothing I've read."

I smiled. "Did you just make a joke?"

He looked confused for a second. "No."

I sighed. "Next time just agree."

I closed the small space between us again as our lips met for a second time. After sometime I playfully bit the lower lip and pulled away. He was getting better. I didn't think it was half bad for his first one.

Before I knew it I was on top of him. His back was pressed against the couch and I was straddling him. His tie was gone before I knew it and without thinking I had undone all of the buttons of his shirt. My hands of their own accord went to his belt-

His hands suddenly engulfed mine as he pulled them off his belt.

"I don't think this is a good idea," he said panting heavily. I could see the sweat beginning to form.

I stopped and leaned back still on top of him. Confused I pushed some curls out of my eyes. "You don't need a condom. I'm on the pill." Which was true for no other reason then it regulated my periods.

He gently pushed me off and sat next to me. "That's not what I'm talking about. You almost died today. You're emotionally vulnerable. You're going to regret this tomorrow-"

He thought he was taking advantage of me. If anyone was being taken advantage of it was him. I had been on top of him. I had forcefully kissed him. I had wanted more. It was me not him that was forcing this.

"You almost died today, too," I said defensively. My next sentence came out softer. "Can't we take advantage of each other?"

He didn't respond but didn't make a move either. I took his hand and began to lead him to my bedroom.

"Beth…I've never done this before. What if I…" He never finished his thought.

We had made it. We were standing next to my bed.

"I've never done this before either." I gave a small smile. "We'll learn together. Its ok, Spencer, trust me. If I regret it later, I will take full responsibility."

I don't know if it was the use of my name or my persuasive tone. Or maybe he had wanted to as badly as me but suddenly his lips were on mine and I was being maneuvered unto my bed. I could feel other parts of my wardrobe, along with his, being left in our wake.

Sex is a hard thing to describe to someone who has never experienced it. Its everything rolled into one…It's everything you ever loved and ever hated…everything you ever wanted and everything you've ever despised…heaven and hell…water and fire…body and soul…white and black…night and day…war and peace…pain and ecstasy…healing and condeming...

And while it is all those things, which is great, there are some things that movies and television just leave out.

Such as kicking your cat off the bed and then feeling her eyes watching you all night. Lying in each other's bodily fluids is a bit disgusting. Or the difficulty of getting off shoes, and definitely make sure it isn't too cold in there or you will be running for extra blankets.

And I never regretted any part of that night. Ever. And I don't think Spencer has either.


	26. The Aftermath

_A/N: Ok I would like to say I have never had sex because I have had several pms asking if i had...so NO i have not...ok i'm done_

**Chapter Twenty Six – The Aftermath**

"Spencer," I said rolling over slowly, "what are you doing?"

He smiled sheepishly as he grabbed his pants and shirt. He quickly tried to cover up his nakedness as he walked to the bathroom.

"We just had sex," I said trying to sound angry. "And you're embarrassed to be walking around my bedroom naked?"

It was the morning. What time it was I wasn't sure. I had woken up groggy and sore from my ordeal the day before. But in truth it was Spencer who had awakened me from my sleep. He had gotten up at his normal time and the moving of the bed had startled me.

Spencer closed the door to the bathroom that was attached to my room. His voice came muffled through the door.

"Just because people have intercourse with each other does not mean that they can still not be embarrassed about how they look naked. Since the dawn of time it has been considered shameful to be caught without clothes on."

I let it go. I decided I was not feeling well enough to get into a debate with him. I tried to get up but my head started pounding. I fumbled for the light on my nightstand. As I turned the knob the room began to spin. I did the smart thing and lay back down.

As Spencer came back out of the bathroom fully dressed he went to go out to the door.

"Where are you going?" I asked a bit dazed.

"I was going to get some breakfast." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

But he left the door and came back to sit next to me on the bed. He cautiously touched my neck.

"And you said he didn't hurt you," he whispered. He looked so sad and a bit shocked. He moved his hand gingerly touched my cheek. "These bruises say otherwise."

I snatched his hand off my cheek. "I'm fine."

He said nothing but his face did. He slowly stood up and waked out of the room. I wanted to get up and follow him but I didn't. I turned off the light and tried to get some sleep. My head was pounding from the concussion. And the bruises were tender to my touch.

* * *

I woke up again to the smell of coffee. I looked over at the clock, which read 12pm. And he was still having coffee? I crawled out of bed and rummaged around for some clothes in the dark. I settled for a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

I walked out of my bedroom blinking at the sudden light. And went over to sit at the kitchen table. Jane was sleeping on the couch in the living room and Mina was sitting on the kitchen table staring at Spencer.

I picked her up from the table and placed her on the floor as I took a seat opposite of Spencer. He was adding spoonful after spoonful of sugar to his coffee. I smiled tiredly as he put in his last spoonful and stirred.

"How many cups have you had this morning?" I asked. I was not hungry enough to eat so I decided I was going to watch him eat.

"Only my third," he said like a proud child.

"That's your last one until 2 o'clock," I said sternly. "You can't take all my sugar." I stood up and made a move to take the sugar bowl away from him.

He grew shocked. "Two?!" He pointed to the cup, "But this is only my third!"

"You can have as many as you want after then."

I kissed him on the cheek. It felt so natural and easy to do. As I placed the sugar on the counter I felt his hand grab my wrist. I tripped back over my feet and landed squarely in his lap. I made a move to get up but seeing the coffee cup on the table I started to get chest pains. I couldn't catch my breath and I started getting vertigo. I felt like I was choking on nothing.

_Rhonda came back with a steaming cup and placed it in front of me. She gave an angry glance to Ewell and walked away without a second thought except giving us the gum pop._

_I looked down at the cup it was coffee. He, without a second thought, took it from me and took a gulp. As he set down the cup he nonchalantly reached behind him and pulled out a gun and laid it on the table._

_I swallowed nervously. "I thought you liked knives."_

* * *

It all flashed so quickly before my eyes I could barely stop the images from coming. I sat on Spencer's lap not being able to move for no apparent reason. Other then Spencer was having a cup of coffee.

"Beth," he said sounding quite scared, "what's setting you off?"

I couldn't even speak the attack was bad. Spencer looked down at the coffee cup in his hand.

"Is it the coffee?" he asked. I managed to nod as he pushed it away almost knocking it off the table. "Beth, you're having a panic attack. Take some deep breaths. It'll go away soon."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled his face into my neck. As I began to hyperventilate. His arms went hesitatingly around my back. And he pulled me closer against him.

I managed to get out, "I just keep seeing his face." My voice was quiet and scared.

"It won't last any longer than a half hour." His voice had lost the lecture quality and was more of a soothing tone. As I buried my face deeper into his neck he said, "I promise."

As my heart stopped racing and my breathing became more even I pulled away from him. I gave a small smile to try and make him feel better. He looked like he was going to burst into tears. I made a move to get up but his arms wouldn't budge.

"This was why I didn't want to say I knew you. People who work for the BAU, people like me, the one they love always get up getting hurt." His face grew even sadder as he continued. "You have to understand that I like you. I like you a bit to much." He looked down. "And you like me a little to much."

I kissed him quietly on the cheek. He kept his eyes down as he said, "I wanted you to stay that sweet innocent nine year old girl that was once my friend; who used to pass me notes during church; who I used to read to; who has been embedded into my memory these past fourteen years; who has been haunting me." He looked back at my face. "I told you I didn't know you because I know one day I'm going to hurt you. Either with my work ethic or this job will kill you or something even more personal than that."

"If you still have doubts you can leave and we'll just be friends," I said still trying to steady my breathing and lower my heart rate. "Or I can never see you again."

He paused as I pulled away from him and went to get something to eat. "I haven't had any contact with you for fourteen years. I don't want to make it another fourteen."

"So what are you going to do then?" I asked as I found a yogurt behind the milk in the fridge.

I heard the scrape of the chair on the floor behind me. I closed my eyes tightly as I anticipated the slam of the front door behind me.

Instead I heard, "I'm going to kiss you." I whirled around with my back against the counter.

I happily jumped up to his waiting lips. He had greatly improved from last night. Finally he pulled away with a happy smile on his face.

"I'm not going anywhere."


	27. Loose Ends

_A/N: This is the second to last chapter. As the title suggests most questions will be answeredin this chapter. If I leave anyting out pm me and it will definitely be put in the last one. Hope you guys enjoy!_

**Chapter Twenty Seven – Loose Ends**

As I went to go take a shower, which I desperately needed, the phone began to ring. I saw Spencer's hand go for it.

"Spencer don't touch-"

He hit talk obviously not hearing me. "Hello, Smalls residence." He paused as I dove to take the phone out of his hand. "Yes, she is. Hold on one second." He finally relinquished his grasp on the phone. "It's JJ."

I gave him an angry slap on the shoulder. "Don't you ever answer my phone again. Ever." I removed my hand from the receiver. "Hello Jen."

"You slept with him didn't you?" I couldn't even deny it before she went on. "I'm so happy for you Beth! I was going to come over but now…I can't contain my excitement."

"Jen, you can still come over. No one's stopping you." I looked over at Spencer who was petting Jane as she slept on my couch. "Or we can go out to our favorite club with the team-"

"Ok we'll go out later tonight," she said, "to celebrate closing the case and you two getting together."

"I'll celebrate the case but not the relationship," I said exasperated. "And would you mind not assigning your team a new case just yet." I paused. "I want sometime with you and Spencer."

She laughed. "But mostly time with Spence." I opened my mouth to say something but she cut me off. "Well I've got to go call the office and tell them that none of us are coming in today. See you at the normal time at the bar."

"Bye Jen," I said hanging up. I angrily shook the phone angrily at Spencer. "Don't you _ever_ pick up my phone again! Do you hear me? Ever!"

"Sorry," he said looking down sheepishly at his folded hands. "I didn't think about it."

I smiled. He was too adorable to stay mad at for long. "I know you didn't." I gave him a quick kiss on the forehead. "Just don't let it happen again…especially if my parents call." He opened his mouth to protest but quickly shut it again when I gave him a look. "You better call Gideon to tell him your ok," I said as I walked into my bedroom. "He worries about you."

"It's normal human emotion to worry about others. We all feel the need to look after-"

I called from inside my bedroom. "Don't deny that he's like a father to you. Call him and tell him where you are and that your fine."

I closed the bathroom door and turned on the water. As I stripped down and stepped into the stall I tried to shake the past few days out of my mind. I didn't need another panic attack right now. As I closed the shower door behind me I heard a knock on the door.

"Spencer, for goodness sakes! You don't have to knock." I could see the blob of the door open and him walk in. "There's an extra toothbrush in the medicine cabinet if you want it."

I could hear him open and close the medicine cabinet. I fumbled for the shampoo in the shower. I started thinking about the case we had just closed. It's what my mind does in the shower. It wanders.

Without thinking I said, "Have the team ever been that off before?"

I heard him spit into the sink. "I don't fully understand the question."

"Well, Ewell…the profile of him. I mean it was completely off from what you believed it to be." My fingers played with the shampoo as I worked it into my hair. "We believed he was doing it for religious beliefs. But it turns out he just wanted to kill his mother over and over again…does that even make any sense?"

I heard Spencer stop brushing. "No…no it doesn't." I heard the sink running. "He wasn't sophisticated enough to come up with something like that." He paused to turn off the sink. "But someone who worked with criminals would."

"Are you saying Ewell worked with someone else?" I asked trying to rush to get out of the shower quicker.

"No…that's what you're saying." He opened the door and walked out hurriedly. "I'm calling Gideon."

"You didn't call him yet?" I asked exasperated through the door.

He didn't answer but just closed the door.

I didn't know what I had just started but I wasn't looking forward to it.

* * *

"Beth, I don't want you coming," Spencer said as I opened the car door.

"I'm coming." I buckled myself in securely. "I like seeing things through to the end."

We were driving to Ewell's parole officer's house. We were hoping he could shed some light on the situation. Maybe he could tell us some of his friends or acquaintances. Maybe he could help clear up some of this confusion. The team shouldn't have been that far off on the profile.

We drove for a while in silence. "Did you tell Gideon about us?" I asked tapping my finger on the door handle.

"Yes," he said nonchalantly.

"Morgan?"

"I tell Morgan everything."

I turned to him. "Does everyone know?"

"They're profilers, they knew we were going to sleep together before we even knew it," he said.

It wasn't defensive sounding it was just stating obvious facts. And the sad part was I knew it. I knew they all knew we would have ended up together. And it didn't bother me one bit.

* * *

"Mr. Milligan?" Spencer asked as Brian opened the door.

The man who opened the door was in his late thirties. His hair was balding on top and glasses sat a bit crookedly on his nose. But he was well built, strong and muscular.

"Yes?" he opened the door even more. "How may I help you?"

"I'm Dr. Spencer Reid from the FBI and this is Dr. Elizabeth Smalls." He touched my elbow slightly. My skin was burning were he had lightly toughed with his fingers. My cheeks flushed. "We're here to talk to you about Jacoby Ewell."

"What are you geniuses? You both look a bit too young to have your doctorates," Milligan said moving away from the door.

"I have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute." He fumbled for his badge. I quickly went into his back pocket and showed it to Milligan.

"I don't have a badge," I said handing it back to Spencer. "I'm just a consultant."

Milligan smiled warmly. "Come in." As he closed the door behind us he said, "Sorry, I have to ask. I work with some really crazy people." He extended his hand. "It's lovely to meet both of you." I took it and shook it. I knew Spencer wanted to keep his hands in his pockets. "Where do you work Dr. Smalls that you are consulting for the FBI?"

I followed him as he led us into his office that was off of the main foyer. "I'm an English Professor at William and Mary in Williamsburg."

As he sat in his chair behind the desk he gave a questioning look. I chose to ignore it. He had a couch instead of the typical two chairs on the other side of the desk. He motioned for us to sit. Spencer stood behind me as I sat on the couch. It would make me feel more comfortable if he would sit. I glanced behind me. He looked down and gave a small smile as his hand found the back of my neck. His fingers were cool against my warm skin. Milligan didn't notice this small form of open affection.

"How can I help the FBI?" he asked as he folded his hands.

"As you may or may not know one of your Parolees, Jacoby Ewell, killed himself yesterday in a police shootout," Spencer said his hand stealthily moved to the back of my shoulder.

"Yes, I was contacted last night. It was awful what happened to that boy. I've been with him since he was little. I knew both his parents well. He was making real progress until…" His voice trailed off as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Until he went down to Reverend Finch in Alabama," I said finishing his thought for him. "We're here, Mr. Milligan, because we believe Jacoby might not have acted alone."

"Excuse me?" he asked surprised.

"Was there anyone Jacoby was close to? Anyone he would have called up if he was in trouble or needed help?" Spencer took over for me. I was floundering a bit.

Milligan looked down at his folded hands. "No…no one I can think of."

"Well do you mind if we take a look at his file," Spencer said moving around the other side of the couch. He sat down next to me; well not really next to me he was on the other side of the couch not even touching me.

"Of course," he said standing and going to a file cabinet on the far wall. "It's all the government's information anyway."

Spencer stood up to take the file and said, "May I use your bathroom?"

I glanced up sharply at him. He chose to ignore me. Milligan blinked in surprise but answered, "Yes down the hall third door on your right."

"I'll be right back Dr. Smalls," he said taking the file with him he left through the open door.

"You'll have to excuse my college," I said as Milligan perched on the edge of his desk. "He's a genius yes but sometimes he's just forgets about things like that."

I had no idea what Spencer was doing. I suppose he was going to read the file. I didn't understand why he couldn't do that here. Maybe he was going to look throughout the house for something. He was trying to understand Milligan but why did he have to leave me alone with him?

Milligan gave a small smile. "I can see that." I suppose he must be referring to earlier when he was fumbling for the badge. Without missing a beat he continued. "How long have you two been dating?"

"…Ex…excuse me?" I could feel my cheeks flushing.

"Anybody with two eyes can see that you two have a thing going." He paused. "Well at least he has something for you. You can see it in his eyes."

I looked down and played with a curl. "I thought we were doing a better job at hiding it. At least I thought I was."

"Well, you honestly weren't giving off anything that you liked him. But he was and the only way he would do that, in my opinion, was if he knew for certain that you liked him." He was starting to sound like Spencer. "You don't work together do you?"

"Only on this case," I said still staring at my laced fingers.

He made a noise of consent and moved to sit next to me on the couch. I shifted uncomfortably away from him.

"Are you a virgin, Dr. Smalls?"

The second time in less then a week somebody had asked me that. My head snapped up. I started fumbling for words but nothing would come out. He had me pinned between the couch and him.

"That's what I thought," he said waving a knife in front of my face. "Fornication is a sin against God. Sin is transgression of the law of God. First John 3:4."

My mind wasn't working quickly enough to process what was happening. "…you…you killed all those women…Ewell was…your pawn…"

Milligan wasn't hearing me. "I bet you seduced him. You made him defile his body along with yours." I could feel the cool metal against my throat. "You are unclean and the punishment is death."

"Drop the knife, Milligan."

I was whirled around the knife still to my throat. It was Gideon. His gun was drawn and trained on Milligan's head.

"Gideon, nice to meet you again." His breath was warm on my neck. And the cold metal of the knife was still pressed against me. "She's soiled your protégée. She deserves to die."

"Dr. Smalls!" Gideon raised his voice to a yell. "How dare you! You will burn forever in Hell for doing so. Dr. Reid would have never slept with you if you hadn't seduced him!"

I tried to speak back to him. I could feel his grip loosening on me. "I'm sorry, Gid-"

Spencer appeared behind Gideon. "She didn't seduce me. I seduced her. She didn't want to sleep with me." He took a few steps forward to pass Gideon. "She shouldn't be punished. She's just a weak woman. I overpowered her too easily." He was standing in front of us now. He slowly reached out his hand. "You should punish me instead."

I could feel the knife move away from my neck a bit. Spencer suddenly pulled me forward. He caught me as Morgan came out of nowhere and tackled Milligan to the floor. Emily came in behind him and helped drag him out the door. JJ came out from behind Gideon and Hotchner soon followed.

Spencer sat me down on the couch as Morgan dragged Milligan out of the office. Emily followed behind him. I could hear them saying insults to him as they did. Spencer squatted in front of me and took my hands in his. JJ sat next to me on the couch.

"Beth, are you ok?"

"I knew something was wrong as soon as you left." I managed to get out. "Why did you leave me?"

"You have to believe me I never thought he was going to attack you. I wanted him to say something demeaning to you. I wasn't sure if it was him or not," Spencer said grasping my hands even tighter. "I didn't think…I never would have thought…" He hung his head unable to meet my eyes.

"I know," I whispered. He still wasn't looking at me. I stood up from the couch dragging Spencer with me. "But I'm ok." I smiled. "In fact, he wasn't nearly as terrifying as Ewell. Compared to that hostage situation this was a cake walk." He still wasn't looking at me. I grabbed his tie from around his neck and pulled his lips to mine. When we pulled away I said, "See, I'm not mad at you."

He looked at me and smiled.

* * *

I walked into my apartment and imedietely flung off my shoes. I looked over at my phone. The red light was flashing; I had a message. I hit the button and went to get a glass of water.

_BEEP!_ _Today at 12:13pm._

"Dr. Smalls, this is...this is Martha Ewell...I know you said to call you if I remembered anything. Jacoby's parole officer, Brain Milligan, is very good friends with my husband. The only reason Jacoby came down here was because of Mr. Milligans' urging. Maybe you should go talk to him. He might be able to help you find Jacoby." There was a pause. "I've got to go. Reverand Ewell is coming back. But I hope this helps Dr. Smalls." There was another slight pause. Her musical voice came back quiet. "Be careful."

The dial tone sounded through the phone.


	28. A Good Beginning

_A/N: We have finally come to the end of a very long and frustrating story. And I hope you all have enjoyed it! Thank you very much to everyone who encouraged me and gave me great advice. I have grown so uch as a writer during this story and I think it really shows. If you lovely readers would like me to continue the story let me know....i'm still up in the air about it. Let me know!_

**Chapter Twenty Eight – A Good Beginning**

The clink of glasses on the bar created lovely background music to our conversation as we sat on the couch. JJ sat next to me eyeing the pool table. Morgan was standing behind Garcia's chair. He tried to play it off like he was checking out other women at the bar but he only had eyes for Garcia. And she had no idea. Gideon was sitting next to Emily on the couch opposite us. He was trying not to let on how happy he was but a smile crept across his face every once in a while. Hotchner was sitting next to Hailey with his arm around her shoulders. We were all one big happy family. It felt nice to be included.

I had my head on Spencer's shoulder and he had his arm around my waist. It felt so natural this public display of affection.

"So, Milligan was the mastermind behind everything?" Hailey asked taking a sip of Long Island Ice Tea.

Spencer decided to answer. "He had the idea to send Ewell down to Finch. When Ewell came back up he killed his mother in a fit of rage for divorcing his father, which started this whole cycle. Milligan used him." He paused as I shifted closer to him on the couch. "And it almost cost this team everything."

"But what happened to Mrs. Ewell?" I asked trying to change the subject.

"We haven't found her yet," Hotch said unconsciously pulling Hailey closer to him. "Unless Milligan talks we may never know."

JJ suddenly picked up her beer bottle and said, "Enough of this dark talk. The case is over with and done. Let's drink to a closed case and the lives we saved." She glanced over at me as she said this.

We all grabbed our glasses and took a big swig. Music started playing as Morgan slammed down his drink.

"Come on, baby girl, we're going to dance." Morgan extended his hand. She took it without hesitation.

"Oh, sugar you know I can't dance." She said flustered the only time I had ever seen her so. But after some smooth talking by Morgan she allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor.

Hotchner soon followed with Hailey. JJ got up and went to play pool with some of the guys. I saw her throw a few bills on the table as they snickered. She was going to beat them all. But she'd play the dumb blonde card for now. Emily went over to the bar to talk to a guy who had been giving her a look all night. Gideon leaned forward to talk to us.

"I'm glad you two found each other," he said quietly. "Again." Spencer opened his mouth to say something but Gideon cut him off. "Listen to what I'm going to say and think about it long and hard. Reid…Spencer don't let this job consume you completely. You have something more important right now, Beth. You've lost her once in your life and have almost lost her two other times for good. Don't let her go. I'm afraid she's fallen too hard for you. And she might get hurt in the long run."

"I know," I said interrupting him.

He continued like I hadn't even spoken. "And Beth you need to be understanding and compassionate. Though I just told him to put you first you never will be. This job comes first always for him no matter what." He paused and smiled. "But you both love each other so much that you'll make it. No matter what obstacles you face always remember that you love each other."

Spencer smiled and looked down at me. "I could never forget that."

Gideon continued with a smile. "You both need to be unselfish. That's one of the main components of love…but for you two more than others." There was a moment of silence. Gideon surveyed us still clasped in each other's embrace. His smile grew. "But I think you'll make it."

Before Spencer and I could respond Morgan called out from the dance floor. "Hey lover boy are you going to show your lady how to dance?"

His cheeks grew pink but he stood up much to my protesting. "Really, Spencer. I can't dance…I'm terrible…honestly…"

He smiled still flushed. "It's ok. I'll lead."

"Can you even dance?" I asked as he took up my hand and one arm went to my lower back.

"I think I've read enough books on the subject of dancing," he said his hand slipped down a little as we swayed to the music.

I smiled and took his hand and placed it back. "Then don't let your hand wander."

His face turned even redder. "I…it wasn't…"

"I'm just teasing." I leaned up to his ear. "But I wouldn't mind it down there."

"Then why don't you let me keep my hand down there?"

I kissed him like I hadn't in a very long time. "Well, we are in public…but later tonight…"

He smiled and then kissed my forehead. I caught people out of the corner of my eye. But they were a blur, a whirl. They had indistinct colorations and thoughts. They might as well been air for all I cared. I had gotten something I had once thought unattainable. I had gotten back my childhood friend, colleague, companion, confident, and lover. Someone I thought I would never see again and would never hold dear.

We continued to sway and as my cheek found his chest and his hand clasped mine tighter I felt safer. Safer than I had ever felt in my entire life. And secure. No that was the correct word. Secure.

And as the music stopped and turned to an upbeat song I kept him on the dance floor. We didn't leave each other's arms until the next morning when I woke up for a cup of tea. But even then it felt wrong him not being there. Holding me in someway shape or form. So I went back to bed and as he kissed me good morning I thought, "This is how it's supposed to be. This is how love is supposed to begin."


End file.
